The Pool Party Apocalypse

Maya felt like a total zombie after finals week—three hours of sleep per night for five days straight will do that to you. But she'd promised Jade she'd come to the pool party, and Maya didn't break promises. Especially not to Jade, who'd been her best friend since seventh grade, back when friendship bracelets were actually cool and not something people wore ironically.

The problem was, this wasn't just any pool party. It was *Tyler's* pool party. Tyler, who Maya had been lowkey crushing on since January. Tyler, who had no idea she existed until literally yesterday when he'd asked her about the math homework and she'd practically choked on her own spit.

"You good?" Jade asked, nudging her as they stood by the gate. Maya's makeup was already melting in the June heat. She'd spent forty-five minutes trying to look effortless, which was the most effort she'd ever put into anything.

"Totally fine," Maya lied, adjusting the strap of her swimsuit that kept digging into her shoulder. "Just haven't been swimming in, like, forever."

The backyard was already packed. Tyler's friends from the soccer team dominated the deep end, screaming and splashing like overgrown children. The girls' swim team sat in a perfect circle on the patio, coconut water bottles arranged like some kind of offering. Maya felt seriously out of place in her Target swimsuit while everyone else seemed to have stepped out of an Instagram post.

Then she saw Tyler.

He was climbing out of the pool, water streaming down his arms, his hair plastered to his forehead. Their eyes met for like half a second before someone screamed "CANNONBALL" and a wave of chlorinated water hit Maya square in the face.

Everyone laughed. Maya wanted to die. She was living in some kind of nightmare where she was simultaneously invisible and the center of attention.

"You okay?" Tyler was actually standing there. Right in front of her. Dripping wet and smiling that annoyingly perfect smile.

"Yeah," Maya managed, wiping water from her eyes. "Just mentally prepping to embrace my inner zombie. Finals week took my soul."

Tyler laughed. An actual laugh, not a polite one. "Dude, same. I think I wrote an entire essay about World War II in my sleep last night."

For the next hour, they talked about everything and nothing—how Mrs. Chen gave way too much homework, how Maya's little brother was literally the worst, how Tyler had accidentally dyed his hair green in sixth grade and still hadn't lived it down. They were both walking zombies, exhausted and weird and perfect.

Jade caught Maya's eye from across the pool and gave her a thumbs-up.

Later, when Tyler asked for her number ("to study, obviously, unless you want to get boba sometime?"), Maya realized something. The zombie state she'd been dreading was exactly what brought her here—exhausted, guard down, completely herself. Sometimes the best moments happen when you're too tired to overthink everything.