Poolside Reconnaissance

My friend Marcus—aka my ride-or-die—adjusted the fedora I'd stupidly worn to Tyler's pool party. 'You look like a detective from a bad Netflix show,' he said, barely containing his laughter.

'I thought it was aesthetic,' I muttered, pulling the hat lower. My palms were sweating so bad I could barely grip my phone. Marcus, being the chaotic friend he is, had appointed himself as my personal spy. His mission: find out if Tyler actually liked me back.

'Target is by the deep end,' Marcus announced unnecessarily loud. Several people turned to stare. I wanted to dissolve into the concrete.

Marcus proceeded to 'casually' swim past Tyler, doing the most obvious recon ever. He dolphin-kicked, splashed, and even asked Tyler about his sunscreen routine. I watched from behind a potted palm tree, questioning every life choice that led to this moment.

Then Tyler's Golden Retriever, Buster, chose that exact second to shake himself off directly onto my new shoes. Of course.

Tyler looked over, caught my eye, and—this was happening—actually walked toward me. My heart swam laps in my chest. Maybe Marcus's terrible spying had worked?

'Hey,' Tyler said, gesturing at my hat. 'Nice fedora.' And then, the impossible: 'Wanna swim?'

Marcus gave me two thumbs-ups from across the pool. I removed the ridiculous hat, stepped toward the water, and realized sometimes the worst plans somehow lead to the best moments. Even when your dog walks you into them. Even when your best friend is possibly the world's worst spy.

Sometimes you just gotta jump in.