Poolside Zombies

The neon blue energy drink can sat on the pool's edge, condensation dripping like my last shred of dignity. I'd been staring at Maya's back for twenty minutes while she dominated the social pyramid like she'd invented it herself.

"You look like a zombie," Jay said, splashing water at me. "AP Euro summer homework got you living undead?"

"Bro, I'm operating on lightning reflexes and pure spite," I said, though the truth was I'd spent half the night overanalyzing why my best friend since seventh grade had been ghosting me all summer.

Maya caught my eye across the pool. For a second, the old spark was there—remember when we built that literal pyramid of empty diet coke cans in her basement freshman year? But then Tyler from the lacrosse team said something and she laughed, throwing her head back, and I was back to being the guy she used to sit with at lunch before she got hot and got popular.

Storm clouds were gathering. Everyone else was too busy being cool to notice.

"Pool's getting cold," Jay muttered. "Maya's probably gonna kick everyone out soon."

Something about the way the lightning streaked across the sky—purple-white, sick and beautiful—made me reckless. I cannonballed.

The splash was legendary. Water everywhere. Maya's phone, her outfit, Tyler's perfect hair. The social pyramid collapsed in three seconds.

"Really?" she snapped, but then she saw me laughing, actually laughing, and something cracked.

"Your turn," I said.

She hesitated. Then she jumped.

We ended up sitting on the pool's edge, shivering, watching the storm roll in while everyone else ghosted.

"I missed you," she said quietly.

"Me too, friend," I said. "Me too."

The first raindrop hit like permission to be real again.