Six Feet Under

The chlorine smell hit me before I even saw the water. But honestly? Anything was better than baseball practice with Coach Miller breathing down my neck about my 'lack of hustle.'

I don't even play sports. I got dragged into the team because my mom said I needed 'more structured activities' and my best friend, Jordan, threatened to stop talking to me if I didn't sign up with him. So now here we were, at his pool party, hiding from the fact that we both absolutely sucked at baseball.

'Stay low,' Jordan whispered, pointing toward the patio. 'Caleb's bringing his guitar.'

Caleb. The guy who'd supposedly hooked up with half the junior class. The guy whose older brother worked for Comcast and could get us free premium cable channels. Not that any of us cared about cable TV—that was so elementary school—but the way Jordan talked about it, you'd think having access to HBO was basically currency.

'You going in?' Jordan asked, already peeling off his shirt.

I hesitated. The pool looked perfect—blue water rippling in the sunset, people laughing—but I had a secret. A deeply embarrassing, 15-year-old's worst nightmare kind of secret.

I couldn't swim.

Not like, couldn't swim well. Couldn't swim at all. Like, I'd drown in the shallow end.

'Nah,' I said, trying to sound casual. 'I'm good. Just gonna chill.'

Jordan gave me this look. The kind that says I know you're lying but I'm not gonna call you out on it yet.

The night got weird about an hour later. Someone—I'm pretty sure it was Caleb—dared some freshman to jump from the roof into the pool. Which, first of all, insane. But also kind of mesmerizing? The kid stood up there, looking down at the water, and I felt this knot in my stomach because I knew what it felt like to be scared of something everyone else thought was easy.

Then it happened. The kid slipped.

He hit the water hard and didn't come up.

For three seconds, nobody moved. Then Jordan was already diving in, and I was standing there frozen because I couldn't help, I couldn't—

The pool had this old steel cable running across the deep end for no reason anyone had ever explained. The freshman was tangled in it, thrashing, and Jordan couldn't get him loose.

I saw Jordan surface, gasping. 'I need help!'

Without thinking, I grabbed this fallen tree branch from the edge of the yard and jumped in. The water closed over my head and I panicked, swallowing chlorine, but I pushed toward them, extending the branch. The kid grabbed it. Jordan pushed. We got him to the side, coughing and crying but alive.

Later, sitting on the patio wrapped in towels, Caleb handed me a soda. 'You saved him, man.'

'Jordan did,' I said. 'I just held a stick.'

'You jumped in,' Jordan said quietly. 'I know you're scared of water.'

I stared at him. 'Since when do you know that?'

'Since I'm your best friend, idiot.' He grinned. 'Since you flinch every time someone mentions swimming.'

The air felt different then. Lighter.

'Still not getting back in that pool though,' I said.

Caleb laughed. 'Fair. But hey—my brother upgraded our cable package if anyone wants to come over and watch movies.'

Some things never change. But somehow, that was okay.

I could learn to swim tomorrow. Tonight, I had cable, a friend who knew my secrets, and the knowledge that sometimes the scariest things are the ones that show you who you really are.