The Bull In The Deep End

Marcus stood at the edge of the community pool, towel wrapped around his waist like armor. The first day of summer, and his friends had already decided this was the summer they'd all get cool — which apparently meant swimming lessons at the rec center. Marcus, who'd barely survived the shallow end last year, wasn't feeling it.

"You coming, or what?" yelled Tyrell from the middle of the pool, splashing water like he owned the place.

"Yeah, yeah," Marcus muttered, then froze.

Chloe was sitting on the lifeguard stand, headphones on, totally unaware she was about to witness his humiliation. Great. Just great. This was exactly the kind of moment that lived rent-free in his brain forever.

"I bet you won't jump off the diving board," said a voice behind him. Jason. The guy'd been giving him crap since seventh grade, always with that smirk like he knew something Marcus didn't.

"Watch me," Marcus said, before his brain could veto this terrible idea.

His heart hammered as he climbed the ladder. The pool stretched out below him like this giant, chlorinated mouth waiting to swallow him whole. He could hear Jason and his baseball team laughing from the side — they'd just finished practice and decided sticking around to watch freshmen fail was peak entertainment.

Marcus stood at the edge. Deep breath. You got this. Just jump.

He leaped.

The water hit him like a wall. For a second, everything was muffled and blue and peaceful, and he thought, hey, maybe this isn't so — and then his lungs remembered they needed oxygen. He kicked toward the surface, arms flailing, vision going spotty at the edges.

Something grabbed his wrist. Hauled him up.

He broke the surface, gasping, and there was Chloe, standing chest-deep in the water, looking concerned.

"You okay?" she asked.

Marcus opened his mouth to say something cool, something that would erase the past thirty seconds of absolute cringe, but what came out was, "I was testing the water temperature."

She smiled. "Sure. Good thing I was here to rescue your scientific research."

"That's not — "

"Relax." She flicked water at him. "Everyone sucks at something. Last week? I tried out for the baseball team. Got hit in the face with a pitch. Straight up walked into it like a doofus."

Marcus blinked. "Wait, really?"

"Super uncool." She treaded water, floating backward. "Point is, nobody's watching as close as you think. Jason's already moved on to making fun of someone else's dive."

He glanced at the pool deck. Jason was indeed roasting some poor kid's cannonball.

"So," Chloe said, "you gonna stay in the shallow end all summer, or what?"

Marcus looked at the diving board. Looked at her. Looked at the deep end, which suddenly seemed way less terrifying.

"Teach me how to not drown," he said.

"Deal." She grinned. "But if you call me Coach, I'm pushing you under."

" wouldn't dream of it."

That night, Marcus scrolled through Instagram until he found it: Chloe's post from last week. A black eye. A caption that said: "baseball struck out. literally."

He laughed, then liked it. Maybe this summer wouldn't be so bad after all.