Poolside Reconnaissance

The only thing worse than third-wheeling at Tyler's pool party? Third-wheeling while your best friend is busy having a moment with his crush, and you're stuck holding his phone like some kind of designated texter-spy.

"Just spy on her story again," Tyler hissed, pushing his dripping hair back. "She posted a pic twenty minutes ago. Does it look like she's having fun?"

I rolled my eyes but did it anyway. Because that's what best friends do—they conduct social media reconnaissance while pretending to be chill about swimming laps in the shallow end.

The pool was chaos. Someone's dog—a Golden Retriever named Brody—kept barking at the diving board like it personally offended him. Two sophomores were arguing over who could do a better handstand underwater. And somewhere, a radio blasted that one song everyone pretended to hate but secretly loved.

My palms sweated against Tyler's phone case. I hated being the undercover information gatherer. It felt so middle school.

"She's at the same party," I reported, sliding the phone back. "Literally three photos down from that group shot. You could just, you know, talk to her."

Tyler shook his head. "Nah. Can't just swim up to her like 'hey, I noticed you're here.' That's weird."

"What's weird is having me stalk her Instagram from the pool deck."

He laughed, splashing water at me. "You're the best. Seriously though, you think she's into it? I mean, she did post that—that's a signal, right?"

I wanted to tell him he was overthinking it. That maybe she just posted because people post things. That maybe we were fifteen and should be jumping off the diving board instead of analyzing digital breadcrumbs like they were nuclear launch codes.

But then I saw Chloe watching us from the other side of the pool. She glanced away quickly, smoothing her hair like she hadn't been looking at all.

"She's looking over here," I said, keeping my voice steady. "Like, right now."

Tyler froze. "For real?"

"Bear witness, bro. I do not lie about these things."

He took a breath. Tugged at his shorts. Started toward her like he was walking into something terrifying and amazing all at once.

I watched him go, suddenly aware of how fast my heart was beating too. Not for me—for him. For all of us trying to figure out how to exist around each other without drowning.

Brody the dog barked again, and I swear, it sounded like encouragement.