The Bear at the Pool's Edge

Maya's stomach did that thing where it felt like someone was squeezing it like a stress ball. The pool party at Jessica's house was exactly the kind of social event she usually avoided—too many people, too much skin, too many opportunities to say something awkward.

"You'll be fine," her mom had said earlier, handing her that ridiculous cream-colored cable-knit sweater to wear over her swimsuit. "In case you get cold."

Right. Because the real reason wasn't that Maya was self-conscious about how she looked in a bikini. The cable-knit monstrosity was her armor—thick, scratchy, and absolutely hideous, but safe.

She stood at the edge of the pool, clutching her tote bag like it contained state secrets. Which, in a way, it did. Inside was Mr. Paws, the stuffed bear she'd had since she was four, and that she still slept with every night when her parents were fighting. Nobody knew about Mr. Paws. Not her best friend, not anyone.

"Hey, Maya!" It was Lucas, the boy she'd been lowkey crushing on since seventh grade. He was running toward her, water dripping from his hair, smiling like Maya was someone worth smiling at.

Her heart did this little flip thing that was equal parts amazing and terrifying. "Hi!"

"You coming in?" He stopped near her, grinning. "Water's perfect."

"Um, maybe later?" She tightened her grip on her bag. "I'm good."

And then, because the universe had a personal vendetta against her dignity, someone bumped into her from behind. Maya stumbled, her tote bag flew open, and Mr. Paws—her ancient, beloved, entirely secret childhood comfort—tumbled out and landed with a soft plop on the concrete pool deck.

Everything went quiet.

Maya's face burned so hot she felt like she might spontaneously combust. This was it. The social death moment. The mortifying climax to her already anxiety-filled existence. She was literally going to have to move schools. Maybe change her name.

But Lucas didn't laugh. He didn't look at her like she was weird. He just bent down, picked up Mr. Paws, and handed him back with this gentle, understanding smile.

"Cool bear," he said softly. "I still sleep with my old dinosaur sometimes. When stuff's hard at home, you know?"

Maya's eyes stung. Lucas got it. He actually got it.

"Yeah," she whispered, hugging Mr. Paws to her chest. "Exactly."

"Hey." Lucas nodded toward the water. "Wanna hang out over there? It's quieter."

Maya looked at her cable-knit sweater, at her bear, at this boy who'd somehow turned her most embarrassing moment into something else entirely.

"Yeah," she said, and she meant it. "I'd like that."

For the first time all day, the squeezing in her stomach loosened. Maybe being seen wasn't so terrible after all. Maybe it was just the beginning of everything.