The Pool Party Incident

Maya's hair refused to cooperate. She'd spent forty-five minutes trying to perfect the effortless waves everyone at school seemed to have naturally, but her curls had other plans. They frizzed. They rebelled. They basically announced to the world that she was trying too hard.

"You ready?" Jordan called from downstairs. Her best friend since sixth grade, the one person who'd seen her through braces, bad bangs, and that unfortunate neon phase.

"Does it matter?" Maya yelled back. "My hair looks like I stuck my finger in an electrical socket."

"It looks fine. Plus, everyone's gonna be too busy staring at Kevin to notice you."

Right. Kevin's party. The social pyramid of Northwood High condensed into one backyard pool gathering. Seniors at the deep end. Juniors in the middle. Everyone else clinging to the shallow end like their lives depended on it.

Maya had spent weeks psyching herself up for this. Swimming in public during the day meant exposing everything—her body, her insecurities, the fact that she still couldn't dive without looking like a panicked flailing animal.

But Jordan had insisted. "You can't hide in your room forever. You're literally sixteen. This is supposed to be the best time of our lives or whatever."

The party was already in full swing when they arrived. Music thumped from waterproof speakers. Someone had set up a volleyball net in the deep end. A pyramid of red plastic cups towered on a table—Maya hoped it was soda, but knowing Kevin's reputation, probably not.

Jordan immediately disappeared toward the snack table, leaving Maya to navigate the social waters alone. Great.

She found a spot near the pool steps, dipping her toes in, pretending to be fascinated by the water rippling around her ankles.

That's when she saw it—Kevin's phone, abandoned on a lounge chair. Screen unlocked.

Maya glanced around. No one was watching. She shouldn't. She really shouldn't.

But curiosity won. One quick peek wouldn't hurt, right?

She was being a total spy, crouching over the phone like it contained state secrets instead of whatever memes Kevin had saved. But what she found made her pause.

Kevin's Instagram drafts. Dozens of them. All captions for photos he never posted. All about feeling fake. All about being lonely at the top of the social pyramid.

"I see you found my embarrassing diary," a voice said behind her.

Maya jumped, nearly dropping the phone. Kevin stood there dripping wet, towel around his neck. He didn't look mad. Just tired.

"Sorry, I—"

"It's fine." He sat on the edge of the chair. "Everyone thinks being at the top means you've got it figured out. Truth is, I'm just swimming in the same deep end as everyone else. Just with better hair."