Poolside Reconnaissance

The humidity hit me like a wall as I walked through the sliding glass door, my iphone practically slipping from my sweaty palms. Carter's annual end-of-school pool party. The social event of the season, and I'd spent the morning psyching myself up in the bathroom mirror, practicing my casual laugh. Why did being fifteen feel like walking through a minefield blindfolded?

I made a beeline for the snack table, clutching my phone like a lifeline. My mission: avoid awkward small talk for as long as humanly possible. Then I saw her.

Chloe. The softball pitcher with the arm that could strike out anyone who looked at her wrong. She was sprawled on a lounge chair wearing an orange bikini that made my stomach do actual gymnastics. Her hair was wet, slicked back, and she was laughing at something Carter said — that genuine laugh that crinkled her nose.

"Hey, you made it!"

I jumped, nearly dropping my phone into the potato salad. Jake. My best friend since we'd tried to build a baseball diamond in his backyard at age ten and ended up just digging a massive hole.

"Dude, you're literally shaking," he said, grabbing my shoulder. "Just talk to her. What's the worst that happens?"

"She laughs in my face? I spontaneously combust? I trip and fall into the pool?" I gestured at my cargo shorts. "These would weigh me down like an anchor. I'd drown before hitting bottom."

"You're overthinking it. Again." Jake lowered his voice. "I heard she thinks you're cute."

"Bullshit. You're just saying that so I'll make a fool of myself."

"I swear! Maya told me. They had that project together in history."

Before I could process this information, someone screamed "CANNONBALL!" and a tidal wave of chlorinated water engulfed me. I sputtered, wiping my face, realizing too late that my iphone was now a very expensive paperweight.

Chloe appeared beside me, handing me a towel. "You okay?"

Our eyes locked. Time did that thing where it slowed down, like in movies but realer.

"My phone," I said lamely.

"Yeah, that sucks." She bit her lip, looking nervous. "Hey, so, I was going to get ice later. Want to come?"

The pool shimmered behind her. The party noise faded. Jake was making frantic thumbs-up signals from across the deck.

"Yeah," I said, and something inside me unlocked. "Yeah, I'd love that."

Later, as we walked toward her car, I realized my drowned phone had been the best wingman I could have asked for. Sometimes the universe breaks your stuff to give you what you actually need.