“WETTMELONS!” she yelled again, this time with gusto.
Taking a breath that felt like borrowing courage from a future, braver version of herself, Selene lowered into the water. The cold was a shock, a baptism. She pushed off the wall, elbows flailing like a wounded duck.
She reached the other side, gasping, victorious. Maya was already there, howling. WettMelons
“You did it!” Maya yanked her into a hug. “You absolute maniac.”
The word was a dare, a hiss from behind her. Maya, her best friend, nudged her shoulder. Maya was already submerged up to her chin, her dark hair fanning out like a silk fan. “Don’t you chicken out now, Sel. You lost the bet.” “WETTMELONS
Selene looked around. At Maya, who was locked in an epic inflatable orca joust with a kid in a pirate ship. At the elderly woman doing gentle backstrokes, singing show tunes. At the chaos, the joy, the complete and utter weirdness.
Leo Castellano. He’d just moved to town, all sharp elbows and quiet eyes. He was floating on a simple blue ring, a book balanced on his chest, trying to read by the lantern light. She pushed off the wall, elbows flailing like a wounded duck
“I moved here three weeks ago,” he said. “I’ve been sitting in my room, thinking everyone already has their friends, their stories. That nobody leaves space for a new guy.”