Vitamin Gummies and Poolside Spies

The vitamin gummies clicked against my teeth as I choked down three of them before school. My doctor said I'd "appreciate the energy boost," but honestly, I just needed anything to get me through sophomore year without completely losing it.

"You're being dramatic," Maya said, scrolling through her phone while we sat on the edge of the pool at Tyler's party. "Just talk to him already."

"I'm not being dramatic, I'm being tactical," I corrected, dipping my feet into the shockingly cold water. "I've been observing Jake's patterns for two weeks now. I'm basically a spy at this point. I know he gets coffee at 7:45 exactly. I know his playlist is 80% indie garbage. I know he—"

"—that you're literally obsessed with him," she finished. "Same energy as my little brother and his Minecraft streamers."

I rolled my eyes so hard it actually hurt. The pool lights flickered on as the sun dipped lower, painting everything in this weird electric blue that made everyone look either gorgeous or like a drowned rat. Guess which category I fell into.

Then Jake walked by. Shirtless. Because the universe hates me.

"Hey, aren't you in my English class?" he asked, stopping nearby.

My brain short-circuited. I said something that might've been "yeah" or could've been a dying whale noise.

Maya saved me. "She's the one who always has those bear gummy vitamins on her desk."

"Oh yeah, the bear ones are actually good," Jake said. "My mom buys the cheap ones that taste like chalk."

"Right?" I heard myself say, suddenly functioning again. "These are basically candy. I mean, not that I eat them for the taste or anything."

Smooth.

He laughed though. Actually laughed. "You're funny. I'm gonna grab a drink, you want anything?"

"I'm good," I managed, and as he walked away, Maya grabbed my arm.

"Did that just happen?"

"I think I need to sit down," I said, even though I was literally already sitting. "Also, never call them 'bear gummies' ever again."

"Too late." She grinned. "But hey, at least you finally talked to your spy target."

"He's not a spy target, that sounds creepy."

"You literally know his coffee order and his whole playlist."

"That's called research."

She shook her head, but she was smiling. Around us, the pool party kept going—laughter and splashing and people pretending to be cooler than they actually were. And maybe that was the point. Maybe we were all just faking it, taking our metaphorical vitamins and trying to survive, secretly spying on each other and hoping nobody noticed how scared we were to just be ourselves.

"He's coming back," Maya whispered suddenly. "Fix your hair."

"I hate you," I said, but I reached for my ponytail anyway.

"Love you too. Now make your move."