The Pool Party Apocalypse

Jordan's plan had been flawless: wear the vintage swimsuit, accidentally-on-purpose bump into Riley by the snack table, and finally make a move after months of Instagram stalking from a distance. What she hadn't planned for was the papaya.

"Try this, it's exotic," Maya said, shoving a chunk of the suspicious orange fruit toward Jordan's face. "My mom's obsessed with superfoods."

Jordan swallowed, gagged dramatically, and reached for the closest cup—which turned out to be not water but some jungle juice concoction that tasted like regret and artificial pineapple. Maya cackled while Jordan's eyes watered.

"You're the worst, truly the worst." But Jordan was grinning. This was fine. Everything was fine.

Then Riley materialized by the edge of the pool, looking unfairly good in swim trunks and a faded band tee, and suddenly Jordan remembered why she was here. Why she'd spent forty minutes curling her hair. Why she'd practiced casual greetings in the mirror like a total weirdo.

Her legs carried her forward on autopilot. She could do this. She was normal. She was chill. She was—

"YO, WATCH OUT!"

Some sophomore doing a cannonball sent a tidal wave of pool water directly at Jordan. She didn't just get wet; she got obliterated. Her hair plastered to her forehead. Her vintage swimsuit revealed itself to be alarmingly see-through when soaked. And somewhere in the chaos, she stepped on a squeaky rubber fox pool toy that let out the most undignified HONK.

The entire pool area went silent.

Riley was staring. The cute seniors were staring. Even the fox floated there, judging her.

Jordan died inside. Actually died. If someone checked her pulse right now, she'd be clinically deceased. She was a zombie, shambling through the remainder of this party, existing only as a cautionary tale for future generations.

"Dude," Maya said, "that fox toy literally screamed when you stepped on it."

"I'm never leaving my house again."

But then Riley was there, offering a towel and looking genuinely concerned, and Jordan's undead heart gave a little flutter. Maybe she could recover from this. Or maybe she'd spend the rest of the semester as the girl who got murdered by a pool toy and some fruit.

"You want to get out of here?" Riley asked. "There's papaya in the punch. We could get real food."

And just like that, Jordan rose from the grave.