Poolside Protocol

The chlorine hit me first—that sharp, chemical scent that meant summer in the suburbs. I stood by the **pool** fence, clutching my **iPhone** like a lifeline. Maya was inside, probably laughing at something Chad said. Something I wouldn't get.

"Yo, Marcus!"

I jumped. Ben surfaced from the deep end, water streaming down his face. "You gonna stand there like a **zombie** all day or jump in?"

"I'm good," I muttered, but my phone battery showed 4%. Perfect. Now I really had an excuse to bail.

"Chill, man. Chad's bringing out snacks." Ben swam to the edge. "And you're gonna need to charge that anyway. I left my charging **cable** on the table inside."

A **friend** would've just offered me the cable. But no, Ben had to make it weird—like I couldn't just walk in and grab it without looking desperate. Or worse, like I was crashing my own best friend's party.

The sliding glass door opened. Maya stepped out, Chad behind her carrying chips. Their fingers brushed.

Something tightened in my chest.

"Marcus!" Maya waved. "You made it!"

"Yeah," I said. "Forgot my charger."

"We're about to play zombie tag," Chad called out. "You're It if you don't get in here."

Ben hauled himself out of the pool. "Dude, just come in. I'll cover you."

He grabbed my arm and pulled me toward the water.

"Wait—my phone—"

"It'll survive. You won't."

He shoved me. I hit the water, chlorine flooding my nose. When I surfaced, everyone was laughing. Even Maya. And somehow, that was okay.

"Took you long enough," she said.

I grabbed the edge, breathless. "Shut up."

"Zombie's coming," Chad warned, backing away dramatically.

Ben grinned. "Get him, Marcus."

I pushed off the wall, diving toward them, and for once, I wasn't watching from the sidelines.