The Pool Party Incident

The text notifications were blowing up my phone like crazy. Every time Maya posted something, I'd spy on her stories even though I promised myself I wouldn't. It's pathetic, right? We used to be best friends, then sophomore year happened and she got popular and I stayed regular.

That Friday, this kid Marcus invited everyone to his place. His parents were loaded — they had an actual swimming pool in the backyard, which was wild considering we lived in the desert.

"You coming?" Jen asked, sliding into the booth next to me at lunch. "Marcus's parties are legendary."

I shrugged, trying to look chill. "Maybe."

"Maya'll be there," she said, knowing exactly which buttons to push.

So I went. Big mistake.

The backyard was already packed when I arrived. People were jumping into the pool fully clothed because that's what happens when parents are mysteriously "out of town." I spotted Maya immediately — she was wearing this vintage slip dress that made her look like she'd stepped out of a Tumblr post from 2014.

Then I saw it.

Standing next to the diving board, looking completely out of place: a massive brown bull. Like, an actual farm animal. Marcus's older brother must have brought it as some weird joke.

"Yo, is that a BULL?" someone shouted, and suddenly the whole party stopped. The bull just stood there, chewing cud like it was totally normal to be at a high school gathering.

That's when Maya's cat — this calico she'd brought in a carrier for some reason — escaped. The cat bolted straight toward the bull.

"NO!" Maya screamed, racing after her cat.

I didn't think. I just moved. Dived between the bull and the cat, scooped up the calico, and twisted away. The bull huffed, unimpressed.

Maya skidded to a stop beside me, chest heaving. "Did you just — did you just save Luna from a bull?"

"I mean," I said, clutching this confused cat, "technically the bull wasn't doing anything. But also, yes."

She cracked up. Not fake Instagram-story laughter, but real laughter. The kind we used to share when we'd stay up too late watching terrible movies.

"I missed you," she said suddenly.

"Yeah? You looked pretty busy with your new friends."

"They're not like you," Maya said, reaching for the cat. "None of them would've saved Luna from a bull."

That's when we heard the splash.

Someone (definitely Marcus) had pushed the bull into the pool. The animal was thrashing, water everywhere, people screaming and laughing.

"We need to get out of here," I said.

Maya grabbed my hand. "Let's bail."

We spent the rest of the night at the park, eating gas station snacks and watching her cat chase moths. She apologized for everything that happened between us — the ditching, the ghosting, the way she'd changed to fit in.

"I spy with my little eye," she said around 2 AM, grinning like nothing had changed, "someone who's still my best friend."

"You're so corny," I said, but I was smiling too.

Some friendships can survive a bull in a pool. The important ones find their way back to each other.