Taking the Plunge

The problem wasn't that I couldn't swim. The problem was that I swam like a drowning squirrel. Still, when Jordan announced she was hosting a pool party to end all pool parties, I knew I had to go. Jordan, with her effortless everything and perfect hair that somehow always looked amazing wet. This was my chance to finally talk to her outside of AP English, where I mostly just stared at the back of her head and pretended to understand symbolism.

"You're going, right?" Marcus asked, spinning his locker combo like he had somewhere better to be. "Everyone's gonna be there. Even Kevin." Kevin, who we all secretly called The Bull behind his back because he was basically a human tank who pushed everyone out of his way in the hallways. Great. Just great.

The day of the party arrived way too fast. I spent twenty minutes arranging my hair just right under my lucky baseball hat – the one with the slightly bent brim that made me look like I didn't care, when obviously I cared SO MUCH. Standing by Jordan's pool, clutching my towel like a safety net, I watched everyone else dive in with absolutely zero hesitation. They made swimming look as natural as breathing.

Then Kevin shoved past me, nearly knocking me into the water. "Move it, loser," he muttered, cannonballing into the deep end and sending a wave splashing toward my feet. My hat flew off and landed – you cannot make this up – directly on Jordan's head as she surfaced near the edge.

She laughed. Actually laughed. "Nice hat, Evan!" And then she was looking at ME, not through me, not past me. "Come swimming! The water's perfect!"

And in that moment, I realized something: I could stand there being the kid who almost drowned during freshman year swim unit, or I could just jump. I grabbed my hat back, tossed it onto a lawn chair, and did the most graceless, uncool cannonball in the history of cannonballs. The water rushed into my ears. I came up sputting, and Jordan was still laughing, but not like she was laughing AT me. Like she was laughing WITH me.

"Finally!" she splashed. "Took you long enough!"

Sometimes you have to take the plunge before you realize you can swim. And sometimes, just sometimes, the most terrifying moments are the ones that change everything.