Vitamin D Deficiency

The invitation sat on my phone screen like a death sentence: Jessica's pool party. Saturday. 2 PM.

"You going?" Marcus asked, sliding onto the bench next to me.

"Obviously." I lied. "Love swimming."

I'd never properly learned. Could sort of not-drown, that was it. But at sixteen, admitting you couldn't swim was like admitting you still watched Bluey. Not happening.

Saturday arrived. I showed up wearing swim trunks I'd bought online, praying they weren't see-through when wet. The backyard was already packed — Jessica's older brother blasting music, people doing cannonballs, the smell of chlorine and coconut sunscreen.

"MAYA! Finally!" Jessica waved from the pool's edge. "Hop in!"

Panic spiked.

"Actually," I started, then froze. Everyone was watching.

"Yo, Maya!" Devin called out. "Chicken fight! Me and you versus Marcus and Tasha!"

Before I could strategize an exit, I was being pulled toward the water. The shallow end. Thank GOD.

"I got you!" Devin laughed, hoisting me onto his shoulders.

This was fine. This was manageable. Just splashing. Maybe I could fake a cramp in thirty seconds and—

"DEEP END! CHICKEN FIGHT TO THE DEATH!" someone shouted.

And then we were moving deeper. The water rose past my waist, my chest, my neck.

"You good?" Devin asked.

"Totally," I squeaked.

Then Tasha shoved me.

I went under. Chlorine stung my eyes. My feet touched nothing but open water. I flailed, swallowing water, panic seizing my chest.

Hands grabbed me. Hauled me up coughing.

"Yo, you okay?" Marcus looked genuinely concerned.

"Vitamin deficiency," I blurted. "Low potassium. Makes me cramp up."

Dead silence.

"Bro," Devin said slowly. "You just need a banana."

They laughed. Not mean laughing. The good kind. The kind that meant I wasn't dead, and nobody actually cared that I couldn't swim.

"Teach me?" I asked, wiping water from my eyes.

"Yeah," Marcus said. "After I beat Tasha. Again."

By summer's end, I'd learned to swim properly. But more importantly, I'd learned that the scariest thing wasn't the deep end — it was pretending to be someone I wasn't. And that honestly? Was worth more than any vitamin supplement.