Swimming Alone

The pool lights flickered off, leaving only the glow from Maya's phone as I floated on my back, staring at the palm tree silhouettes against the sky. Everyone else had gone inside for pizza an hour ago, but I stayed.

"You're gonna turn into a prune," said a voice from the deck.

I spun around, splashing water everywhere. It was Leo—the new kid whose hair somehow always looked perfect, even at midnight in July. He was sitting in one of the lounge chairs, legs crossed, watching me. Like, actually watching me.

"Were you spying on me?" I asked, treading water now.

"No." But his face said yes. "Just... thinking."

"About?"

"About how you've been avoiding the party all night." Leo slid into the pool, clothes and all. The water rippled around us. "My cousin said palm readings are BS, but I wanted to see what you'd say."

"Who told you I do palm readings?" I'd done exactly once at lunch, and now everyone thought I was basically a fortune teller.

"Everyone knows." He swam closer. "Show me your hand."

I hesitated. This was the thing—I didn't even believe in it. But suddenly Leo was treading water beside me, wet clothes clinging to him, looking at me like I actually had answers. Like I wasn't just the girl who spent middle school hiding in the library.

"Fine." I extended my hand, water dripping from my fingertips. He took it, his palm warm against mine.

"Your life line's long," I said, making something up. "You're gonna do something important."

Leo laughed. "That's what everyone says."

"No, I mean... actually important." I looked at him, really looked at him. "Something that matters."

Something shifted in his expression. The pool lights flickered back on—somebody inside must have hit the switch. Suddenly we were two kids in a lit pool at midnight, hands still touching, water everywhere, and I realized I'd been swimming alone for a long time but maybe I didn't have to be.

"Your turn," he said. "Read my palm for real this time."

"I was making it up."

"I know." His smile was different now. "Do it anyway."

So I did. And somewhere between my fake predictions about his future and his real laughter about my terrible interpretations, I stopped feeling like the lonely kid in the pool and started feeling like someone who might actually belong.