The Pool Party Incident

Maya stood at the edge of the pool, clutching her iphone like a lifeline. The screen glowed with an unread text from him — the him who'd barely looked at her all semester. Around her, the sophomore class splashed and screamed like they'd invented fun.

"You coming in or what?" called Kayla, already floating on an bright orange inflatable flamingo that screamed basic but looked ridiculously comfortable.

"Yeah, just... gotta put this somewhere safe." Maya scanned the patio tables. Nothing looked trustworthy. Her lifeguard cousin had warned her about water damage stats that still haunted her dreams.

"Just leave it on the table, Maya. You're being dramatic."

Maya squeezed her phone. Being dramatic. That's what everyone said when she cared about things. When she noticed details. When she felt too much. The water churned below her, smelling of chlorine and sunscreen and everything summer was supposed to be.

She jumped.

The shock of cold swallowed her whole. For a second, everything was muffled blue silence, her arms and legs moving instinctively through swimming motions she'd learned in lessons she'd begged her mom to let her quit. Then something yanked her foot — someone's hand? No, a vine of underwater seaweed decorations?

She surfaced gasping, laughing at her own panic, until she saw it.

Her iphone. Gliding toward the deep end like a graceful, terrible silver fish.

"NO!"

She lunged, fingers brushing smooth glass before it sank deeper. Someone cannonballed beside her, sending waves everywhere. Chaos erupted. And then suddenly, strong arms were pulling her up, and there was Tyler — him, Tyler who'd barely looked at her all semester — holding her phone, dripping wet, grinning like he'd just saved the world.

"You dropped this," he said, water running down his face. "Also, you scream like a raccoon."

Maya's face burned hotter than the sun. "Raccoons scream?"

"YouTube it," he said, and something in his eyes softened. "Want to see something?"

He led her to the snack table, grabbed an orange, and started juggling three of them like it was the most normal thing in the world. "I'm failing algebra but I can do this. Priorities, right?"

Maya laughed — really laughed — for the first time all summer. Her phone lay safely on a dry towel. The water glittered behind them. And somewhere between the orange circles arcing through the air and Tyler's ridiculous lopsided smile, Maya realized she'd been holding her breath all semester, waiting for something to happen.

This wasn't what she'd expected. But maybe that was okay.