Poolside Zombie Apocalypse

The hat was a mistake. That's the first thing I thought when I walked into Marcus's pool party and saw everyone else in swimsuits, looking chill and effortless while I stood there in my dad's vintage fedora, sweat already forming on my upper lip.

"Nice hat, Sherlock," Maya called from the pool, grinning. She was floating on an inflatable pizza slice, water droplets glistening on her arms like tiny diamonds. I felt my face burn hotter than the afternoon sun.

The party had been raging for two hours when someone decided we should play Marco Polo in the deep end. I'm terrible at swimming—like, barely-don't-drown terrible—but peer pressure is a powerful drug. So I jumped in, fully clothed, fedora and all.

Big mistake.

The hat immediately filled with water and dragged me under. I flailed like a dying fish, surfacing with what must've looked like zero coordination. Everyone laughed, but not in a mean way. Still, I could feel the embarrassment creeping up my neck like invisible fingers.

Then I saw it: a piece of bright green spinach wedged firmly between my front teeth, probably from the veggie tray I'd decimated earlier to avoid actual conversation. I'd been walking around with that for who knows how long, smiling and nodding like I wasn't a walking salad bar.

"That's absolute bull," I muttered, scrambling out of the pool and racing to the bathroom.

When I finally emerged, hatless and spinach-free, Maya was waiting by the back fence.

"We're starting a zombie movie marathon inside," she said, studying me with those dark eyes that made my stomach do weird little flips. "You coming? Your hat tragedy basically makes you the protagonist already."

I laughed, and this time it didn't feel forced. The fedora lay abandoned somewhere by the pool, a casualty of trying too hard. Maybe that was the point—you can't curate every moment perfectly. Sometimes you just have to jump in, fully clothed, and hope you don't drown.

"Yeah," I said, following her toward the house. "I'm coming."

Behind us, the pool water rippled under the moonlight, washing away the worst parts of the day. Tomorrow I'd probably cringe thinking about it, but tonight, walking next to Maya with chlorine drying on my skin, I felt like maybe I'd survive being seventeen after all.