The Summer I Learned to Float

My **iphone** buzzed against my thigh, vibrating with the force of approximately twelve group chat notifications. Summer at the country club wasn't exactly how I pictured it, but here I was, drowning in chlorine and awkward tension.

"You playing **padel** later?" Jake asked, spinning a racket between his fingers like he'd been doing it since birth. Which, knowing his family, he probably had.

I shrugged, trying to look casual instead of like I'd been practicing my serve against the garage door for three weeks straight. "Maybe. If I'm not busy."

Busy. Right. Busy staring at Maya across the pool, busy pretending I didn't notice her laughing at something Tyler said, busy being absolutely pathetic.

"Your dad still got that **bull** out back?" Tyler asked, tossing his phone onto a lounge chair. "The one that almost trampled Mr. Henderson last summer?"

"Chili's old news," Jake said. "Got a new one. Meaner."

Great. A meaner bull. Exactly what this summer needed.

I'd been **swimming** since I was six, but somehow everything felt different at fifteen. The way water slicked back my hair, the way my shoulders looked broader in the mirror, the way Maya actually looked at me sometimes—not through me, AT me. That was new.

The papaya incident happened during the club's tropical theme party. Someone thought serving chunky fruit smoothies in actual coconuts was a good idea. They were wrong.

"Is this... **papaya**?" I'd asked, staring into my cup.

Maya had laughed, and something in my chest did that stupid fluttery thing. "You've never had papaya? What kind of childhood did you have?"

"A normal one," I'd said, and then immediately regretted it.

"Try it," she said, pushing her cup toward me. "Unless you're scared."

I took a sip. It tasted like soap-covered sadness.

"It's... interesting," I said, while Maya burst out laughing.

"You hate it," she said. "I can see it on your face. You're doing that thing where you try not to throw up."

So maybe the papaya didn't go well. But later, floating on my back in the pool while the sun set and everyone else's phones buzzed with instagram notifications, I realized something. Maya had noticed me. Really noticed me. Not filtered, not curated, not perfect.

Just me. Papaya-hating, terrible-at-padel, secretly-vibrating-with-anxiety me.

And that was maybe enough.

"Earth to Leo," Jake said, splashing water in my direction. "You playing padel or what?"

I stood up, water streaming down my face. "Yeah. I'm playing."

Maya waved from the other side of the pool. My phone buzzed again. I ignored it.

Summer was just getting started.