The Pool Party Protocol

The iPhone sat there, screen glowing on the picnic table like a guilty conscience. Maya's phone. Left completely unlocked while she grabbed more sodas from the cooler.

I knew better. I really did. But my fingers moved like they had their own mission, suddenly hyper-aware that I was basically being the worst kind of spy. Not the cool MI6 type with gadgets and martinis — more like the creep who reads texts at a party and ruins everything.

But there it was. Her chat with Jordan. The guy I'd been crushing on since seventh grade.

*him: that party sucked lol*

*her: i knowwww. chris was staring at me all night*

*him: same. he's weird*

My face burned. Not from the sun, though the June heat was already oppressive. I backed out, heart hammering against my ribs like I'd run a marathon instead of just betrayed my own dignity.

"You okay?"

I jumped. Maya stood there, holding two Cokes, water dripping from her hair and down her shoulders in long, dark streaks. The pool glittered behind her like blue tinsel.

"Fine," I squeaked. "Just... hot."

"The water's perfect," she said, handing me a soda. "You coming in or what?"

The pool was chaos. People doing cannonballs, Marco Polo, something that looked like chicken fighting but more aggressive. The air smelled like chlorine and coconut sunscreen and that specific teenage party smell — sweat and cheap body spray and held breath.

I waded in, the shock of cold hitting my stomach like ice. Swimming had always been my thing. My escape. Underwater, everything went muffled and distant, like the world was happening to someone else.

I pushed off the wall, gliding beneath the surface. Past treading legs and floating bodies. Past the laughter that rippled down in distorted waves. I opened my eyes, stinging in the chlorinated blur, and just let myself sink.

For a moment, it was peaceful. Then: splash.

Maya popped up right in front of me, wiping water from her eyes. "You're hiding," she said. Not a question.

I treaded water, suddenly aware of how exposed I was. In my swimsuit, at this party, in this conversation. "No."

"You're acting so weird today." She studied me, water sliding down her face. "Did something happen?"

The iPhone chat burned in my memory. The words *he's weird* echoing in Jordan's voice, even though I'd never heard him say it. And Maya agreeing, because why wouldn't she?

But she was looking at me with actual concern. Not annoyance. Not judgment. Concern.

Maybe I was the spy. Maybe I was the one making assumptions, reading into things, creating narratives in my head based on one unlocked phone and five seconds of bad judgment.

"I'm just thinking," I said finally.

"About?"

"Stuff." I gestured vaguely at the party. "Everything."

Maya rolled her eyes, but she was smiling. "Dude. You're at a pool party. Save the existential crisis for when we're back in school being miserable."

She splashed me.

I splashed back.

By the time I got out, pruned and exhausted, my phone buzzed in my bag. Jordan. A message I'd never expected.

*hey, this is random but wanna hang out sometime?*

I stared at it, water drying on my skin, heart doing something complicated in my chest. The world felt suddenly possible again.

Beside me, Maya shook out her hair like a dog, spraying me with droplets. "Stop smiling at your phone and get me a pretzel, loser."

I laughed. Maybe being a spy wasn't so bad after all.