Vitamin C and Pool Party Anxiety

Maya stood at the edge of the **pool**, clutching her phone like a lifeline. The popular kids were already doing cannonballs, their laughter bouncing off the concrete. Jordan's house. The party of the year. And she was vibrating with that special kind of terror that only comes from being fifteen and acutely aware of every single thing that could go wrong.

"You good?" Sierra asked, appearing beside her with two gummy **vitamin** C chews. "My mom says these boost immunity. Personally think they boost vibes."

Maya took one, popping it into her mouth. "Thanks. I'm just... lowkey panicking."

"About what? You look fire in that bikini."

"Not the body thing," Maya said, though that was part of it. She adjusted her dad's oversized **hat** – a vintage trucker cap that said 'FLORIDA: GOD'S WAITING ROOM' in faded letters. She refused to take it off, even in July. It was her armor. "The social thing. What if I say something weird? What if nobody talks to me? What if I just stand here looking like a total loser?"

Sierra laughed. "Girl, you're overthinking it. Just exist. That's literally all anyone is doing."

But existing felt impossible when everyone seemed so effortlessly cool. Even the way they floated on inflatables looked intentional. Maya had researched pool party etiquette on TikTok for three days straight. She knew to bring snacks (check: tropical Skittles). She knew not to jump on people already in the water (basic courtesy). But knowing ≠ doing.

Then Jake materialized, dripping wet, grinning like he owned the place. Which, okay, he basically did. His dad owned three car dealerships. Jake radiated main character energy.

"Maya!" He splashed water at her – a light mist, actually respectful of the hat situation. "Finally. Jordan was asking where you were."

She nearly died. "Jordan was?"

"Duh. We're doing sharks and minnows. You're in."

"I don't—"

"Too late!" Jake laughed, grabbing her hand. "You gotta **bear** witness to my legendary speed."

Before she could process the sentence, Jake was pulling her toward the pool. The hat fell off. Her perfectly curated aesthetic – gone. But then something weird happened. Nobody stared. Nobody whispered. They were just... waiting for her.

"Last one in's a rotten egg!" someone screamed.

Maya jumped.

The water was perfect. The terror that had been sitting in her chest dissolved into something else – maybe joy, maybe just relief. She surfaced to find Sierra passing her a pool noodle. Jake was already racing toward the other end, dramatically slow.

"He's so bad at this," Sierra said.

Maya laughed. And for the first time all afternoon, she wasn't thinking about how she looked. She was just... there. Existing. And it was enough.