The Art of Not Drowning

My palms were sweating so bad I could barely grip my phone. Across the pool, Jake was laughing at something Taylor said, tilting his head back like he was in a toothpaste commercial. I'd been functioning on three hours of sleep—thanks, zombie apocalypse marathon—and I was definitely not ready for the party of the century.

"You good?" Maya appeared beside me, holding two sodas. "You look like you've seen a ghost. Or like you're about to become one."

"I'm fine," I lied. "Just peachy. Totally normal human behavior."

She snorted. "You've been staring at Jake for twenty minutes. Either make a move or I'm doing it for you."

"I can't just—"

"Listen." She set down the sodas. "My cousin Lexie says the best way to get someone's attention is to be unpredictable. Be mysterious. Be a fox."

"A fox."

"Sly, clever, impossible to ignore. That's the vibe."

Before I could respond, the sky cracked open. Lightning splintered through the clouds like broken glass, illuminating everything in this stark, sudden flash. Someone screamed—okay, maybe it was me—and suddenly the party chaos escalated. Everyone scrambled for the covered patio while rain started hammering down in these huge, dramatic drops.

Jake grabbed my arm on the way past. "You coming?"

My brain short-circuited. "Yeah. Yeah, I'm—"

Then Taylor yelled, "LAST ONE IN THE POOL IS A ROTTEN EGG!" and suddenly people were diving in fully clothed, shrieking and surfacing like dolphins, and Jake was already halfway there, grinning back at me like this was the most normal thing in the world.

So I jumped.

The water was shockingly cold, electrifying, and I surfaced to laughter and rain and Jake right there saying, "You're actually insane," and for the first time all night, I wasn't overthinking every microscopic movement. I was just swimming in the rain while lightning turned the sky purple-white, feeling more alive than I had in weeks.

Maybe being a fox wasn't about being mysterious. Maybe it was about jumping in anyway.