Poolside Secrets

The chlorine stung my nose as I hovered by the **pool** edge, clutching my towel like a lifeline. Everyone else was already splashing in the **water** like they'd been born doing it. Maya waved from the deep end, her wet hair slicked back, shouting something I couldn't hear over the bass thumping from someone's Bluetooth speaker.

"You coming in or what?" Trevor asked, dripping wet as he pulled himself out. His abs looked like they'd been chiseled from marble. I felt my face heat up.

"Yeah, just... gotta put on my goggles," I lied.

I wasn't really about the goggles. I was more about not letting anyone see that I could barely doggy-paddle. Junior year and somehow still managing to keep my total lack of swimming skills on the DL. It was getting exhausting.

My brother's fat orange **cat**, Mochi, chose that moment to saunter along the fence, tail held high like he owned the place. He hated **water**—would literally scream if someone tried to give him a bath. Same energy, honestly.

That's when I noticed Sophie, the new girl from my history class, sitting alone on a lounge chair. She was scrolling through her phone, occasionally glancing up like she was **spy**-ing on everyone but trying not to make it weird. We'd made eye contact that one time in the hallway when we both reached for the same APUSH textbook, but that was it.

Before I could talk myself out of it, I found myself walking over.

"Hey," I said, mentally facepalming. Hey? Really? That's all I had?

She looked up, surprised. "Hey. You're in my history class, right?"

"Yeah, I sit behind you. Sometimes I forget my pencil and have to do that awkward cough to ask you for one."

She laughed. It was this genuine, crinkle-around-the-eyes laugh that made something in my chest do that flippy thing. "I remember. You always say thanks like I'm saving your life or something."

"Pretty much." I paused. "You getting in?"

"I don't really... do swimsuits," she said, gesturing at her oversized t-shirt and shorts. "But I like watching. It's entertaining."

"Same," I said, feeling weirdly relieved. "I'm more of a sit-on-the-edge-and-dangle-my-feet-in kind of person."

"Solid choice. Less chance of accidentally drowning in front of everyone you know."

We sat there for a while, dangling our legs in the **pool**, talking about everything from how weird it was that we were supposed to have our whole lives figured out already to whether Mochi would actually jump in if someone pushed him (consensus: no, he'd turn into a liquid fury).

The sun dipped lower, casting everything in gold. For the first time all day, I didn't feel like I was faking it.

"Wanna get ice cream?" Sophie asked, standing up and grabbing her bag. "There's that place down the street."

"Yeah," I said, grabbing my towel. "Yeah, I do."

Behind us, Mochi finally hopped down from the fence and trotted away, like his work here was done. Sometimes you just have to stop **spy**-ing on life from the sidelines and actually jump in the **water**. Even if you can't really swim yet.