The Fox by the Pool

The summer humidity made my palms sweat as I stood at the edge of the Reynolds' pool, clutching my phone like a lifeline. Everyone was there—Jessica talking to her friends by the diving board, Tyler doing cannonballs, and that sophomore everyone called Fox because he somehow slipped out of trouble like magic.

"Yo, you gonna jump or just stand there looking deep in thought?" Fox leaned against the palm tree, dripping wet and grinning like he knew something I didn't.

"I'm contemplating my existence," I shot back, trying to sound chill while my heart did cartwheels. Ever since Jessica and I had been texting non-stop for two weeks, I'd been overthinking everything. What if she only liked me as a friend? What if I was reading way too much into those late-night convos?

Fox's eyes lit up. "Wait. You're finally making your move? About time, bro. She's been asking about you all week."

My stomach dropped. Then soared. Then did a backflip. "Wait, really?"

"No cap." He fished in his pocket. "But I should warn you—Tyler's been trying to shoot his shot too. Guy thinks he's smooth with his whole 'I'm on the swim team' energy."

I groaned. Tyler had muscles and confidence and probably didn't overthink every single text message like I did.

Then Mr. Reynolds's voice boomed from the patio. "Hey! Who unplugged the cable? The game's on!"

Perfect distraction. I sprinted toward the house, but something made me stop. Jessica was by the patio door, scrolling through her phone, hair still wet from the pool. She looked up and caught my eye, smiling like she'd been waiting.

"Hey," she said, her voice casual but her hands slightly nervous. "I was wondering when you'd come over here."

Fox passed behind me, mouthing "go get 'em" with a thumbs-up.

"Hey," I managed, palms sweating again but somehow caring less. "Want to help me figure out who messed with the cable?"