The Night I Came Alive

I felt like a **zombie** walking into Tyler's pool party—three hours of sleep, anxiety cranked to eleven, my phone blowing up with texts about how everyone was going to be there. Summer before freshman year, and I was already behind on everything.

The backyard was transformed: string lights, music bumping, a table laden with chips and fruit—including sliced **papaya** that looked fancy and totally out of place. I grabbed a piece, mostly to look busy. Sweet, kind of musky. Not bad, actually.

"Jamie! You made it!" Maya materialized, her energy hitting me like a physical wave. "Everyone's in the **pool**. Come on!"

I followed her to the edge, where maybe ten people were splashing around. Tyler's house backed up to woods, and something orange flashed near the tree line. A **fox**. It stood there watching us, tail swishing, completely unbothered by the noise and chaos. Something about it felt... real.

"You coming in?" someone called.

"Yeah," I said, and actually meant it. I shucked my hoodie and dove in.

The **water** hit me cool and shocking, washing away the zombie fog, the anxiety, the feeling that I was performing my own life. I surfaced, gasping, and Maya grinned at me. For the first time all summer, I wasn't thinking about how I looked or what to say. I was just there.

The fox was still watching when I got out, dripping and shivering, a little more alive than I'd been in months.

"Next time," Tyler said, tossing me a towel, "actually show up on time."

"Yeah," I said, already thinking about next time. "Next time."