The Day I Died at the Pool

I looked like a zombie. No, literally — my sister had done my makeup for the swim team's annual pool party, painting dark circles under my eyes and fake blood dripping from my temple. It was supposed to be funny. The theme was "dead inside" because finals week had killed us all.

But when I walked through the gate and saw CHLOE MERCER standing by the snacks, I felt more like a ghost than a zombie. Floating. Invisible.

The water glittered blue and perfect behind her. People were already cannonballing, screaming, their bodies breaking the surface in explosions of chlorinated joy. I'd barely slept in three days. My brain felt like it was vibrating at a frequency that only dogs could hear.

"Hey!" Chloe waved, actually waved at me. She was wearing this ridiculous neon pink one-piece with zombie makeup smeared across her forehead like war paint. "Want spinach dip?"

I froze. Was this a trap? A test? Something the popular kids did to embarrass the new kid on varsity?

"Sure," I said, because apparently I was a zombie now, and zombies just did things without thinking.

We ended up sitting on the edge of the pool, legs dangling in the cool water, sharing this spinach artichoke dip that was actually incredible. Chloe talked about how she'd failed her driver's test twice, how she was terrified she'd never get into college, how she sometimes felt so exhausted she wanted to sleep until graduation.

"That's why I joined swim," she said, laughing. "The pool is the only place where I can't think about anything except not drowning. It's peaceful."

I nodded so hard my zombie makeup cracked.

Later, when everyone started doing chicken fights and truth-or-dare and all the things that usually made me want to disappear, I found myself actually participating. I cannonballed. I screamed. I got spinach dip on my chin and Chloe just handed me a napkin like it was nothing.

Walking home, my zombie face smeared and my skin smelling like chlorine and snacks, I realized something: maybe we were all a little undead. Maybe that was the point. You find your people in the pool, in the water, in the messy, honest moments where everyone's too tired to pretend.

And for the first time in forever, I didn't feel dead inside at all.