Poolside Truth

The pool rippled like a spilled galaxy, chlorine stinging my nose as I hovered at the edge of Tyler's backyard party. Everyone was already in—Jason doing cannonballs off the diving board, Maya floating on an inflatable donut like she owned the water, and Tyler... Tyler was the reason I'd even come.

"Get in, Leo!" Jason shouted, water dripping from his hair. "Don't be such a wimp."

I clutched my towel tighter. They didn't know. None of them did.

Three weeks earlier, I'd made a mistake that still made my stomach flip-flop. I'd found Tyler's Instagram account somehow, and maybe—okay, definitely—started acting like a total spy. I'd scrolled through three years of posts at 2 AM, liking ancient photos by accident, then panicking and un-liking them like a digital criminal covering their tracks. I'd memorized his favorite songs, his dog's name, the way he took the same selfie angle every summer.

Social media creeping wasn't technically illegal, but it felt wrong. Like I was collecting pieces of him without permission.

And now I was supposed to act normal? Act like I didn't know he'd broken his arm in sixth grade or that his grandma made the world's best empanadas? How do you casually talk to someone when you've already consumed their entire digital life like it's breakfast?

"Leo?" Tyler swam over, resting his arms on the pool's edge. Water slicked his hair back. "You coming in or what?"

My heart did that stupid flutter thing. "Yeah. Just... yeah."

I dropped my towel.

"Whoa, nice trunks." He grinned, and I realized—too late—that I'd worn the exact same board shorts I'd seen in his post from last summer. The ones with the tropical pattern. The ones I'd secretly ordered because I'd thought, Maybe he'll notice I'm into his style.

Smooth, Leo. Real smooth.

But then Tyler laughed, not mean like the bull who'd made my seventh-grade year miserable, but something else. Something warmer. "Dude, I have those! Same ones!"

"Really?" I slipped into the water, cool against my flushed skin.

"Yeah! My mom got them for me last year. They're actually super comfortable." He splashed water at me. "You're not bad, Leo. You're not like some people here."

We floated there while Jason continued his assault on the diving board and Maya complained about her waterproof mascara. And for the first time all night, I wasn't spying on Tyler from behind a screen. I wasn't collecting data or memorizing details.

I was just in the pool with a boy who happened to like the same ridiculous tropical swim trunks.

Maybe, just maybe, that was enough.