Poolside Recon Mission

Maya pressed her palm against the scorching concrete beside the community pool, counting down the minutes until her shift ended. Three hours of guarding entitled middle schoolers who couldn't actually swim. The job had seemed like easy money in June. Now, in late July humidity, it was basically psychological warfare.

"Maya! That kid's doing a handstand in the deep end again!"

She grabbed the rescue tube. Of course it was Tyler's little brother, the one who always found new ways to test her patience.

Later, at her aunt's house where she was basically indentured servitude for the summer, Maya shoveled spinach into her mouth while her aunt's cat, a judgmental tabby named Pancake, watched from the windowsill. The whole forced vegan dinner situation was its own punishment.

"You're spending too much time online," Aunt Lisa said. "Kids these days, always spying on each other through those little screens."

Maya didn't correct her. She wasn't spying—just doing thorough research. Jordan, the cute senior from swim team, had posted a story from the pool two hours ago. She'd been there. She'd missed him. Again.

The cat jumped onto the table and knocked over her phone.

"Pancake, what is your problem?"

The cat blinked slowly, then swiped a paw toward the screen. Jordan's story was still playing. A slow-motion video of someone swimming laps, rhythmic and effortless, with text overlaid: "training for state—wish me luck."

Maya froze. She knew that stroke. She'd seen it every morning at 6 AM for three weeks, from her guard chair, while she pretended not to notice the guy who showed up before anyone else and left without talking to anyone.

He'd been swimming in the lane directly in front of her the entire time.

"I'm an idiot," she said to the cat.

Pancake meowed, like, duh.

Her phone buzzed. Jordan: "Hey! Saw you working today. Thought you might've noticed me, but you were kinda zoning out. Want to grab food after my meet tomorrow?"

Maya stared at the message, then at her spinach, then at the cat who apparently knew everything before she did. Sometimes being a teenager meant learning the obvious things the hard way. Sometimes it meant realizing you'd been missing what was right in front of your face because you were too busy looking for it in all the wrong places.