The Orange Swimsuit Incident

Marcus's stomach did backflips as he approached the chain-link fence. The Moreno twins' padel court gleamed under the July sun, and beyond it, the pool shimmered like an invitation he wasn't sure he deserved.

"Yo, Marcus! You playing or what?" Chloe called out, already positioned at the net. Her neon orange bikini top matched her nail polish — everything about Chloe was curated, effortless, perfect.

Marcus hesitated. His brand-new board shorts were also orange, but not the cool kind. More like construction-worker-vest orange. He'd panicked at Old Navy, grabbed something that wasn't baby blue, and now here he was, looking like a traffic cone next to everyone's muted pastels.

"Yeah," he managed, though his voice cracked. "Yeah, I'm in."

They'd been playing for twenty minutes when Marcus noticed something weird. Between points, everyone kept glancing at each other, suppressing smiles. Even Chloe, who'd been visibly bored when Marcus shanked three easy volleys in a row, was now pressing her lips together like she was holding back laughter.

"What?" he asked, wiping sweat from his forehead. "What's so funny?"

Chloe pointed at his reflection in the glass wall behind the court.

Marcus turned and saw it. A massive, vibrant chunk of spinach wedged between his front teeth, fluorescent green against his smile. He'd had a smoothie for breakfast to look healthy. Cool. Instead, he looked like he'd been eating salad directly from the bag.

His face burned hotter than the pavement. Without thinking, he sprinted toward the pool and dove in, clothes and all.

underwater, the world muffled into peaceful blue. He scrubbed his teeth frantically with his tongue, surfacing only when his lungs screamed.

Everyone stood at the pool's edge, staring.

Then Chloe burst out laughing. "Oh my god, Marcus, that was legendary." She kicked off her sandals. "And for the record? The orange suits are cute. You're good."

She cannonballed in beside him, and soon the whole group followed. For the first time all summer, Marcus's chest felt light. Sometimes embarrassing yourself was the only way to actually belong.