The Day I Held My Breath

The baseball uniform felt like a costume I hadn't earned. Benny—the absolute **bull** of our JV team, all six-foot-two of senior muscle—had been roasting me all practice. His voice echoed across the field like he owned it.

'Swinging for the fences again, McFly? Maybe try swinging for contact first.' His crew laughed.

My cheeks burned. I gripped the bat tighter, missing another pitch. Coach blew the whistle—practice was over. Thank god.

'Pool party at my place,' Benny announced, flashing that grin that got him everything. 'Be there or be square, nerds.' He threw a baseball at my chest. I caught it, somehow.

My house. My parents were out of town. Perfect.

Two hours later, my backyard was chaos. The **pool** glittered under string lights, already full of people splishing and splashing. I leaned against the back fence, solo cup in hand, watching everyone else live their best lives.

Then I saw her. Maya Torres, diving in with a laugh that made my chest do something weird. She'd never notice me.

Until she did.

'Hey!' She pulled herself up, water dripping from her hair. 'You gonna join or what?'

Before I could answer, Benny cannonballed right next to her, sending a wave soaking my shoes. 'McFly doesn't swim, guys. He's allergic to fun.'

Something in me snapped. Maybe it was the humidity, maybe it was the way Maya looked at me with actual concern, maybe I was just done.

I walked to the edge of the pool. Benny smirked, waiting for me to back down.

Instead, I jumped.

The water shocked my system cold. I surfaced, sputtering, to find everyone staring. Maya was laughing—not mean laughing, but real laughing. Benny's face had gone blank.

'About time,' she said, splashing me.

I splashed back. Then someone splashed Benny. Then it was war.

Later, sitting on the pool edge with a towel around my shoulders, Maya handed me a warm soda. Her knee brushed mine. Neither of us moved away.

'You know,' she said, 'Benny's been a jerk since sixth grade. But you? You're kind of brave when you want to be.'

I looked at the baseball still sitting in the grass, where it had fallen from my pocket. Some things you hold onto. Some things you let go of.

'Thanks,' I said, and took a sip.

The night air smelled like chlorine and possibility, and for once, I didn't feel like I was waiting for something to happen. I was already in it.