Storm Warning

Maya stood at the edge of the pool, toes curled against the wet concrete, heart hammering like she'd been downing espresso shots instead of nervously chewing her lip. Swim team tryouts. Senior year. New school. The social hierarchy here was already giving her whiplash—one hallway encounter with Queen Bee Jessica and her minions had been enough to establish Maya as "the quiet new girl" for the foreseeable future.

Coach Miller blew his whistle, a sharp sound that made Maya jump. "Alright, newbies and returners, let's see what you've got. First up: 50-meter freestyle."

Maya adjusted her goggles, trying to look confident. Across the pool, a girl with shoulders like a linebacker and eyes that screamed competitive destruction was stretching her arms. Someone whispered, "That's Torres. They call her The Bull for a reason. Last season, she broke three school records and two egos."

Great. Just great.

Maya dove in, water swallowing her in a cool rush. She was halfway through her lap when the first rumble of thunder vibrated through the pool water like some underwater beast. Then came the lightning—a flash so bright it turned the water white, followed immediately by a CRACK that made everyone surface and gasp.

"Everyone out! Now!" Coach Miller's voice cut through the commotion. "Storm's moving in fast!"

Half-dressed teens scrambled everywhere, grabbing towels and bags in chaos. Maya grabbed her stuff and started running toward the school building alongside everyone else, rain already beginning to spit from the suddenly charcoal sky. Her flip-flops slapped the pavement awkwardly, her wet swimsuit making everything worse.

She somehow ended up squeezed under the school's covered entryway with Torres—The Bull herself—and three other varsity swimmers, all of them dripping and annoyed. The air thick with that weird after-rain smell and teen awkwardness.

"Great," Torres muttered, wringing out her hair. "My fastest time ever and Miller cancels practice because of some drizzle."

Maya's stomach chose that exact moment to growl—loudly.

Torres raised an eyebrow. "Hungrier than you are fast, huh?"

The group giggled. Maya felt her face burn. "My, uh, my mom packed me this... thing." She fished through her bag and pulled out a container of sliced papaya. "She's going through this weird health phase."

"Papaya?" Torres actually looked interested. "That's actually amazing for recovery. Potassium, vitamins, all that." She held out her hand. "I'm Torres, by the way. Everyone just calls me Bull, though."

"Maya."

"Nice meetin' you, Maya. You've got decent form, but your kick is garbage." Torres popped a piece of papaya in her mouth. "We should work on that. Tomorrow. If there's no more stupid lightning."

The other swimmers nodded like this was normal, and just like that, Maya wasn't just the new girl anymore. She was the new girl with the ridiculous fruit who might actually survive swim team after all.