Signal Lost in the Deep End

The coaxial cable lay across my bedroom floor like a dead snake, frayed at the end where I'd yanked it from the wall. My mom was gonna lose it when she got home from her shift, but honestly? I was already losing it.

Maddie had unadded me from the group chat. Again.

I grabbed my swim bag and headed out, needing to burn off the twisty feeling in my chest before I did something embarrassing like triple-texting her.

The pool was empty at 7 PM on a Tuesday. The chlorinated smell hit me like comfort food. I'd been swimming competitively since seventh grade, back when Maddie and I were still the kind of friends who shared playlists and held hands at scary movies. Now we were just two people who happened to have lockers next to each other.

Forty laps later, my arms were jelly but my brain had finally shut up. That's why I loved swimming — the water demanded all of you. No overthinking every text, no analyzing whether someone's laugh meant they were making fun of you or just thought something was actually funny.

I was in the locker room, wringing out my hair, when my phone buzzed against the bench. A notification from the wifi network I'd secretly connected to from the neighbor's house.

MADDIE (3): hey

MADDIE (3): can you come over?

MADDIE (3): please

My heart did that stupid fluttery thing. I typed out "on my way" before my brain could catch up.

I was running down her street before I remembered I was still in my sweatpants with chlorine hair. Whatever. She'd seen me worse.

Her window glowed on the second floor. I tossed pebbles like we were in a corny romance novel until she pushed up the sash.

"I'm sorry," she whispered, looking messy-eyed. "They were making fun of you and I didn't say anything and I felt like such a coward and then I felt guilty so I just... removed myself from the situation?" She made air quotes, looking miserable. "I'm terrible at this. At being a friend."

"Yeah, you kinda are," I said, climbing onto the roof.

She laughed, this wet sound that was half sob, and scooted over to make room. "The cable guy cut our internet by accident today," she said after a minute. "I had hours with nothing to do but think."

"Sucks," I said.

"Actually," she said, leaning her head on my shoulder, "it was kind of the best thing that could've happened."

The night air was cool, and somewhere down the block a dog was barking at nothing. I didn't know if we'd be fine tomorrow — high school friendships are weird like that — but for now, this was enough.