Washed Up at the Pool Party

Maya's been staring at the **water** for twenty minutes like it holds the answers to her algebra final. It doesn't. The pool's doing that thing where it looks extra blue and inviting, which is exactly what she thought about Tyler's party before she showed up wearing the same swimsuit as Jenna—again.

"You gonna swim or just brood dramatically?" Sophie kicks at Maya's flip-flopped foot. "You're being lowkey intense."

Maya sighs. "I'm not **swimming**, I'm hydrating. There's a difference."

"You're avoiding Tyler."

"I'm strategically positioned near the snacks. Also, I heard he's bringing that **padel** racket everywhere now. Who brings sports equipment to a pool party? It's giving 'try-hard energy.'"

Sophie laughs so hard she nearly drops her phone. "It's literally just a racquet sport, Maya. You're overthinking it because he texted you 'hey' instead of 'heyy' and now you're spiraling."

"That's not—I don't—"

"You absolutely do. Watch." Sophie points. Tyler's across the pool, demonstrating some padel move to a group of freshmen who look equal parts confused and impressed. He keeps glancing over here.

"See?" Maya smirks. "Performative masculinity. Classic."

"Or he's showing off because a certain someone pretended she didn't see his story yesterday." Sophie stands up. "I'm going in. You coming, or you gonna stay here and marinate in your overanalysis?"

Maya watches Tyler fake-laugh at something a freshman says. The water ripples as someone cannonballs in the deep end. Her phone buzzes—Tyler again.

'ur missing it. the padel skills are peak rn.'

She types back: 'peak cringe maybe' and hits send before she can think about it too hard.

Two seconds later: 'ur just jealous bc ur form is trash. show me what u got.'

Maya grins. "Fine. But if he beats me, I'm never living it down."

"Deal." Sophie nods toward Tyler. "Go get 'em, tiger. Just don't drown in the drama."