The Summer Everything Changed

My hair was supposed to be the whole point of sophomore year. Purple streaks, carefully crafted waves, the kind of look that said I was someone worth noticing. Instead, I ended up with chlorine-green frizz because my mom signed me up for swim team without actually asking me first.

"It builds character," she'd said, as if character was something you could acquire like a new backpack.

Now here I was, floating on my back during lap swim, pretending I was anywhere but here. The pool smell had permanently seeped into my skin, my clothes, probably my soul. At least I wasn't the only one suffering.

"You know what's worse than this?" gasped Maya, treading water beside me during our ten-second break. "Baseball conditioning in ninety-degree heat."

I shrugged. "At least baseball players don't smell like pool chemicals 24/7."

"True that." She wiped water from her eyes. "Hey, you coming to Jordan's party Friday?"

Maybe. If I could figure out how to make my hair look less like seaweed and more like an actual human hairstyle.

The real problem wasn't the swimming, though. It was Leo — Jordan's older brother, the one who'd graduated but still showed up at everything. The one I'd been crushing on since eighth grade, back when my biggest problem was what color backpack to get.

Friday arrived with my hair still rebelling against everything. I pulled it into a messy bun and called it artistic.

Jordan's house was already packed when I got there. I grabbed a soda and drifted toward the backyard, where a small goldfish pond glowed with those fake floating lights. Cheap but kinda pretty.

"Nice hair."

I nearly choked on my drink. Leo. Standing there like he hadn't just caused my entire nervous system to short-circuit.

"It's called chlorinated绝望," I said, then immediately wanted to die. Why did I say that in Spanish? That wasn't even a real word.

But Leo laughed. "You're on swim team?"

"Unfortunately."

"I did that freshman year." He gestured toward the pond. "My parents still won't let me live down the time I accidentally transferred half the pool into their koi pond. Those goldfish were definitely not built for chlorinated water."

I laughed. "You're the person who killed Jordan's fish? She still talks about that like it's a family tragedy."

"It was! They were named after baseball players!" He stepped closer. "So, you hate swimming?"

"Loathe it."

"Then why do it?"

I thought about how to explain it — the expectation thing, the not-wanting-to-disappoint-parents thing, the whole identity crisis that came with being fifteen and having no clue who you actually were versus who everyone wanted you to be.

"Because sometimes," I said finally, "you do things you hate until you figure out what you actually love."

Leo smiled. Like, actually smiled, not just polite-smiled. "That's smart. And what if you figured out that part already?"

My heart did something genuinely concerning. "Then I'd quit swim team."

"Good." He nodded toward where people were gathering around the fire pit. "Come hang out? I promise no one will care about your hair."

And the crazy part was, for the first time all summer, neither did I.