Sink or Swim

Maya's thumb hovered over the send button, her iphone screen glowing in the bathroom's fluorescent light. The photo stared back: her in a bikini, curls frizzing at the ends, smile hesitant. The group chat was already blowing up.

"u coming or not??"

"party's LITttt"

"we're all at the pool rn"

Maya groaned and stared at her reflection. Her hair had a mind of its own—tight coils in humidity, impossible to tame, and today was no exception. She'd spent two hours with the diffuser, trying to look effortless. Now she just looked effort-full.

Her phone buzzed again. From Tyler: "hope u make it 😊"

Okay, that settled it. Maya grabbed her towel and headed to Jenna's backyard, where everyone from sophomore year was already cannonballing into the pool. Music thumped from portable speakers. People were pairing off in corners, or floating on inflatables, or eating chips with chlorine-wet hands.

Then she saw Tyler. He was in the deep end, treading water, his usually perfect hair plastered to his forehead like a wet dog. He looked ridiculous.

He caught her eye and grinned. "Maya! Finally!" He splashed water at her. "Get in here!"

Maya hesitated. Then she thought: screw it. She dropped her iphone onto a lounge chair—face down, because she wasn't completely crazy—and dove in.

The water was cool, shocking away all her overthinking. For the first time all day, she wasn't worrying about her hair or how she looked in photos or who was watching. She was just swimming, dodging beach balls, laughing when someone splashed her in the face.

Later, dripping wet and wrapped in a towel, she picked up her phone. New notifications.

"best pic of u!!"

"u look so happy maya"

Tyler had posted a photo he'd taken from inside the pool—her mid-dive, hair everywhere, smile genuine. She looked wild. She looked free. She looked like she was having the time of her life.

She saved the photo. Some days, she thought, you just had to jump in. The hair could wait.