The Vitamin Summer

The country club parking lot smelled like expensive sunscreen and desperation. I tugged at my racket strings, palms already sweating. My first day at padel camp, and I was about to humiliate myself in front of the most insulated group of teens in our ZIP code.

"You're the new transfer from public school, right?" This from Chloe, who'd been staring at me since I walked onto the court. Her orange headband matched her manicure. Coincidence? Nothing was coincidental here.

"Yeah. From, um, Jefferson." I bit my tongue. "From Jefferson High."

Behind me, someone laughed. Not mean, exactly. Just knowing.

I peeled my second orange of the morning, needing something to do with my hands. The citrus spray hit my nose, sharp and real, unlike everything else about this place. My mom had packed me a literal jar of vitamins this morning, like supplements could somehow boost my social stats. "Just be yourself, honey!" She'd said. As if myself was someone who belonged here.

"Nice form," a voice said. I jumped. It was the guy who'd laughed earlier—Leo, with dark curly hair and dimples that shouldn't be allowed. He was holding a ball. "But you're gripping the racket like it's about to attack you."

Heat climbed up my neck. "Maybe it is."

He grinned. "Here. Try this." And then he was standing behind me, guiding my arms through the serve motion. His voice in my ear: "Rotate your shoulders. Follow through like you're throwing something. Like you're throwing that orange at someone."

"I would never waste this orange," I said, and he laughed.

After practice, everyone gravitated toward the pool. The water shimmered like something I'd seen in movies but never experienced in real life. Chloe and her friends sat in a perfect cluster, their towels coordinated like some kind of informal uniform. I hovered at the edge, clutching my vitamin water and feeling spectacularly out of place.

Then Leo was beside me, dripping pool water. "You coming in?"

"I didn't bring a—"

He splashed me. Just like that. Cold water against my legs, my shorts, my dignity. "Problem solved."

Chloe stopped mid-sentence. The whole pool area seemed to hold its breath.

Something shifted in my chest. Maybe it was the orange slice I'd eaten earlier. Maybe it was the vitamin D from the sun. Maybe it was just that I was tired of standing on the edge.

"You're dead," I said, and jumped in.

The water swallowed everything—the expensive towels, the social hierarchy, the version of me that stood on edges. When I surfaced, spluttering and grinning, Chloe was laughing. Leo was splashing me again. And for the first time all summer, the oxygen in my lungs felt like it was actually mine.