Poolside Realizations

The sun beat down on the **pool** deck at Jessica's end-of-summer bash, and I was already regretting everything. My **palm**s were sweating so much I could barely grip my phone, where I'd been doomscrolling through TikToks for the last twenty minutes instead of actually, you know, socializing.

"You okay there, champ?"

I looked up to see Marcus sliding onto the lounge chair next to mine. Of course. The one guy I'd been crushing on since freshman year decided to notice me right when I was wearing my oldest bikini—the **orange** one that was practically a vintage piece at this point.

"Just peachy," I said, trying to play it cool even though my heart was hammering like I'd just finished a 5K. "Just taking a mental health break."

Marcus nodded, all easy confidence in his swim trunks. He was on the varsity swim team, which meant he spent half his life in **water** while I mostly just tried not to drown during mandatory swim tests. "Wanna play volleyball? We need a fourth."

Before I could make up an excuse that didn't sound completely lame, something wet and furry shoved against my leg. It was Buster, Jessica's golden retriever, who apparently decided my nervous energy was an invitation.

"Buster!" I laughed as he shook himself off, spraying **water** everywhere. Some of it hit Marcus's shirt, and I froze, waiting for him to be annoyed.

Instead, he just cracked up. "Classic Buster move." He looked at me, really looked at me, and something shifted. "Hey, you're in my AP Bio class, right? You sit by the window?"

I nodded, suddenly hyper-aware of everything: my messy bun, my chipped nail polish, the way the **dog** was now demanding attention from both of us. "Yeah, that's me."

"Cool," he said. "Anyway, volleyball? Or we could just chill here. Buster seems to have claimed you."

I looked at the pool, where everyone was laughing and splashing, looking like they had it all figured out. Then I looked back at Marcus, who was scratching Buster behind the ears and waiting for my answer like my company was actually something he wanted.

"Volleyball," I said, surprising myself. "But I'm warning you now, I'm terrible."

"That's cool," Marcus said, standing up and offering me his hand. "I'll set you up."

My **palm** fit into his as he pulled me up, and for the first time all afternoon, I didn't feel like I was pretending. I was just a girl at a pool party, holding hands with a cute guy, about to make a fool of herself playing volleyball. And honestly? That felt pretty okay.