Summer of the Living Tired

The sun beat down on the Hendersons' backyard pool like it was trying to prove a point. I stood there in my swim trunks, feeling like the most awkward person on the planet. Which, honestly, might not have been an exaggeration.

"You good, bro?" Marcus asked, nudging my shoulder. "You look like you haven't slept since, like, ever."

"Close," I muttered. "Zombie Apocalypse Tournament. Five hours straight. My brain is officially mush."

We'd spent the entire night playing video games, which seemed like an excellent idea at 2 AM. Now, at my crush's pool party, I was regretting every life choice that led to this moment.

Chloe was across the pool, laughing with her friends in that effortless way pretty girls have. I'd been crushing on her since freshman year, and my grand plan to finally talk to her today was not off to a great start. I was too tired to form complete sentences, let alone make a good impression.

Then disaster struck. The Hendersons' cat, a grumpy orange tabby named Cheeto, decided the pool umbrella was his new throne. But Cheeto had terrible balance. He tumbled off, landed in the pool, and immediately started swimming toward the deep end like he'd been training for the Olympics.

"OH MY GOD, THE CAT!" someone screamed.

Before I could process what I was doing, I jumped in. The water was freezing. My exhausted limbs protested, but adrenaline is a hell of a drug. I reached Cheeto just as he decided he was done with this whole swimming experience and started clawing at my arms.

"I got you, buddy," I said, hauling him toward the ladder.

When I emerged, dripping wet and bleeding from three distinct scratch marks, everyone was staring. Including Chloe.

She rushed over. "Oh my god, are you okay? That was actually so brave."

"Just helping Cheeto with his laps," I said, trying to sound chill while my heart hammered against my ribs. "He's got terrible form, though."

She laughed, and it was the best sound I'd ever heard. "I'm Chloe, by the way. I've seen you around school. You're on the baseball team, right?"

"Yeah," I managed, despite my brain short-circuiting. "I play first base. Not exactly cat-rescue duty, but we adapt."

"Well," she said, handing me a towel, "you're definitely cooler than the guys who just stood there filming it."

Marcus gave me a thumbs-up from across the pool. I couldn't tell if he was being supportive or mocking me. Either way, I'd take it.

Maybe exhaustion was my superpower. Or maybe it took a cat falling into a pool for me to finally talk to the girl I'd been crushing on forever. Either way, summer was looking up.