Snapchat at the Deep End

Zoe's mom held out the orange gummy bear like it was sacred.

"Take your vitamin, Zoe. Your skin looks tired."

"Mom, I'm literally fifteen, not forty. And nobody says tired about skin." Zoe grabbed the gummy anyway, shoving it in her mouth while grabbing her iPhone from the counter. Her stories from last night had three new views. One was from Jake.

Her stomach did that thing it always did when Jake's name appeared anywhere near her life.

Today was The Pool Party. Capital T, Capital P. Everyone going. Jake going. Zoe wearing a swimsuit in public — a concept that had been haunting her since Wednesday.

She'd practiced her authentic casual laugh in the mirror six times.

At Maya's house, the backyard looked different in daylight. Less private. More expose yourself to the harsh judgment of the sun and your peers. Zoe's phone buzzed — group chat blowing up with who-wore-what analysis. She typed "omg same" before her thumb could process what was actually being said.

"Zoe! You came!" Maya waved from the pool edge, perfect in a way that felt accidental. Jake was there. Of course Jake was there. He was doing that thing where he stood with his weight on one leg and somehow it looked confident instead of unbalanced.

"Hey." Zoe's voice came out higher than intended. She tightened her grip on her phone.

"Are you gonna swim or just stand there holding your phone like a lifeline?"

Jake. Talking to her. Noticing her.

"I'm... contemplating. The water situation."

"Chickening out?" His smile was actually annoyingly cute.

"I don't chicken. I strategize."

"Strategize this, then." Before she could process, he'd swept her phone from her hand.

"Hey—"

"I'll hold it hostage. You have to come get it."

He tossed it toward the pool edge, misjudged. It skidded. Time stretched weird, like it did in movies before everything went wrong. The phone hit the water.

Everyone froze.

Zoe didn't think. She just jumped.

Phone retrieved. Screen black. Social life possibly over. But when she surfaced, sputtering, Jake was laughing. Actually laughing, not that fake laugh he did when cool people made jokes.

"You actually—" He wheezed. "You just—"

"My phone is dead, Jake."

"You dove. Like, full committed dive. For an iPhone." He looked at her differently. Not like she was Maya's friend from English class. Like she was someone who did things.

Later, wrapped in a towel with her rice-cooked phone beside her, Zoe realized something while everyone else was instagramming the sunset.

Her mom's vitamin gummy had been orange. Her swimsuit was orange. She'd spent three hours last night researching "what to wear to a pool party" but nobody remembered what anyone wore. They remembered who jumped.

Jake sat beside her. "Sorry about your phone."

"It's whatever. I needed a break anyway."

"Yeah?" He bumped her shoulder with his. "Me too."

Zoe's mom texted on her backup phone later: "Did the vitamin help your energy today?"

Zoe stared at the message. Then deleted it. Some things were better left unanswered.