Poolside Static

The country club pool shimmered like Instagram come to life, and honestly? I felt like a fraud just standing there. While the popular crew lounged on pristine cabanas like they owned the place, I was mentally calculating how many lifeguard shifts I'd needed to work just to afford this membership.

"Hey, Marcus!" Chloe called, waving me over to the padel court. "We need a fourth for mixed doubles."

My stomach did that flippy thing it always did when she looked at me. Chloe, who'd been in my homeroom since sixth grade but had never actually spoken to me until today.

"Yeah, sure," I managed, trying to play it cool instead of squeaking like my actual self.

We were halfway through our first game—me missing every other ball because my brain was 90% focused on not embarrassing myself and 10% on Chloe's laugh—when the sky went that weird purple-green color that means trouble in the Midwest.

"Everyone out of the pool!" the head lifeguard shouted through her megaphone. "Storm incoming!"

Thunder cracked like the sky was splitting open, and suddenly everyone was scrambling. But I couldn't move. I was frozen staring at the water, where Chloe's phone sat on a lounge chair, right in the path of the weather.

Lightning struck the oak tree by the parking lot. A spiderweb of white fire crawled across the sky, and time slowed down. I grabbed Chloe's phone and bolted for the clubhouse, my bare feet sliding on wet concrete.

"You okay?" she asked later as we huddled under the overhang, watching rain pound the empty pool.

"Yeah," I said, handing over her phone. "Just, you know—hero mode activated."

She laughed, and it was better than any Instagram filter. "So," she said, "you any good at padel, or were you letting me win?"

"You'll never know," I said, and for the first time all summer, I actually felt like I belonged.