The Summer I Felt Alive

The chlorine stung my eyes, but honestly? Anything was better than feeling like a total zombie. Another pool party, another Saturday night watching everyone else live their best lives while I hovered near the snack table like a literal ghost.

"You're swimming, right?" Jake asked, popping up beside me. Jake, who I'd been lowkey crushing on since seventh grade. Jake, whose abs had apparently developed a whole personality while I wasn't looking.

"Maybe later," I mumbled, instantly regretting it. WHO says maybe later to Jake Torres?

The water shimmered under the string lights, all blue and perfect. Maya was already in, doing that thing where she makes it look effortless, like she's part mermaid or something. Me? I was still in my cover-up, overthinking everything.

Then I saw it—some sophomore had set up a makeshift "palm reading" station behind the tiki bar, because of course. Stupid, right? But somehow I found myself sitting there, letting her trace lines on my hand while everyone screamed into the night playing chicken fights.

"You're waiting for something," she said, like it was nothing. "But you're too scared to jump in."

I jerked my hand back. "What do you know?"

She shrugged. "That you've been standing in the same spot for two hours watching Jake Torres like he's the last slice of pizza at a sleepover."

My face burned. But then she said, "The water's not gonna get warmer. And neither is he."

And just like that, something snapped. I stripped off my cover-up and dove into the pool, the cool water shocking me into something like courage. When I surfaced, Jake was watching me, actually watching me, not through me.

"Finally," he said. "About time you stopped being a zombie."

I splashed water in his face. "Shut up."

He laughed—and okay, maybe my summer wasn't a total waste after all.