Splash Zone

Danny’s smile vanished so fast it was almost impressive.

"Oh," he said, tapping his thumb against his hip. "Actually, we’re kind of at capacity tonight. It’s mostly just returning cast catching up."

Claire’s smile, on the other hand, widened into something blindingly fake. "Yeah, internal tradition! First night is strictly for old-timers."

I let out a full, genuine laugh, clapping Danny once on the shoulder like he’d just delivered a top-tier stand-up routine. "At capacity for a lake? Incredible. Didn't realize security guards were enforcing shoreline quotas out here."

Danny blinked, caught off guard by the fact that I wasn't shrinking into the floorboards.

"Enjoy your exclusive puddle, guys," I added with a breezy wave, turning on my heel and heading for the exit.

I wasn't about to stand there looking pitiful. Rejection from a guy I’d known for eight hours was barely a minor inconvenience, but as I pushed through the heavy double doors into the cooling evening air, a tiny sting of frustration pricked at my chest. Cast cliques were the absolute worst.

"Hey!"

A voice called out behind me. I turned around to see a guy jogging down the concrete steps, clutching a gym bag in one hand.

I recognized him from the introductory circle: Jay. Ensemble dancer. Floofy blond hair that looked completely unbothered by gravity, warm eyes, and a broad smile.

"Tessa, right?" He stopped a few feet away, catching his breath. He looked a little hesitant, rubbing the back of his neck as his cheeks flushed a faint pink. "I, uh... I overheard."

"Overheard Danny's exclusive lake club policy?" I asked, eyebrows raised.

"Yeah. It was kind of an asshole move," Jay said plainly, no malice in his voice, just absolute honesty. He offered an encouraging, slightly crooked smile. "Look, if you actually want to go to the lake, I was about to head out to paddleboard. I've got a spare board on my truck. You want to come?"

I leaned back, taking him in. He wasn't doing the cool-guy stance Danny had down to a science. He was just standing there, open, sweet, and earnest.

"Have you ever been?" he added quickly, misinterpreting my silence. "Paddleboarding, I mean. It's super easy. I could teach you."

"I've never touched a paddleboard in my life," I said. "And I'm going to be terrible at it."

His face lit up instantly. "That's totally fine. I'm a really patient teacher."

I looked back toward the theater doors, then back to Jay's eager expression. "Give me an hour. I need to go back to my apartment, change into a swimsuit, and pretend I have my life together."

Jay grinned, a bright, golden-retriever look that made it impossible not to smile back. "Deal. I'll pick you up in front of the theater in an hour."

Fifty-eight minutes later, I walked back down the street to find Jay's black SUV idling near the lot. Two massive paddleboards were strapped to the roof.

He was leaning against the driver’s side door in a T-shirt and swim trunks. He’d opened the passenger door the second he saw me walking up.

I stopped dead in my tracks, staring at the open door. "What's this?"

Jay blinked. "What?"

"I have working arms. I can open doors."

"I know."

"Okay." I narrowed my eyes, fighting a smirk, and climbed in anyway. "Thank you."

"You're welcome," he said, shutting it gently before hopping into the driver's seat.

Cute. Very sweet. Still not my type. I usually preferred brooding project men like Danny, but Jay’s easy energy was a breath of fresh air.

The lake was fifteen minutes away, which gave me just enough time to learn that Jay was a local who had lived in this exact town his entire life.

"Like... your whole life?" I asked, turning sideways in my seat. "Born here, went to school here?"

"Yep," he said with a shrug. "Family's ten minutes away. My sister's fifteen."

"And you're still here."

He flashed a quick glance off the road, amused. "You say that like I’m being held hostage."

"I’m just trying to understand," I said. "I’m from Seattle. I’ve literally never met anyone who answered that many background questions with the exact same zip code. I don't really live anywhere. I just go where the contracts are."

"Sounds exhausting," he noted gently.

"It's exciting," I corrected. "I have an apartment here for three months, and then I'm off to New Orleans."

"Three months isn't living somewhere, Tess. Your stuff is probably still in your suitcase."

I narrowed my eyes. "How do you know that?"

"You moved in today."

"I could have unpacked."

"Did you?"

"That’s irrelevant."

Jay laughed, a clean, warm sound that filled the cab.

When we reached the water, the sun was glowing low over a quiet, sparkling bay. Jay unstrapped the boards, handing me one. It was roughly the size of a small aircraft.

"I've got it," I declared, staggering sideways toward the shore.

"You're going to hit a tree," Jay called out behind me, carrying his own board effortlessly.

"I know what trees look like!" I yelled back, narrowly dodging a pine trunk.

We waded into the shallow water. Jay mounted his board with fluid, technical grace. The guy was a professional dancer, and it showed in every intentional movement.

I, on the other hand, had done musical theater dance since junior high—just enough to learn combinations and not trip over my own feet but zero actual balance on water.

I dropped to my knees on the foam deck. "Okay. Lesson one."

"Start on your knees," Jay instructed, paddling closer. "Find your center."

"Done. Easy. When do I stand up?"

"Not yet. Get comfortable."

"I am comfortable." I planted my feet, pushed upward, and stood tall.

For one glorious, triumphant second, I was vertical.

Then the board rocketed left, my feet went right, and gravity claimed its victim.

SPLASH.

I popped up through the freezing water, wiping wet hair from my eyes. Jay was bent double on his board, laughing so hard he’d stopped paddling entirely.

"Was that necessary?" I gasped.

"You just vanished!" he laughed. "You were so confident!"

"I remain confident," I announced, grabbing the edge of the board and hauling myself back up. "Time me."

"Oh, boy."

I stood. One. Two. Three. Four—

SPLASH.

"Four seconds!" Jay called out, grinning down at me as I surfaced again.

"That was six," I insisted. "Your internal clock is fast."

"I teach rhythm for a living, Tess. I can count to four."

Over the next thirty minutes, I fell into the lake nine times. Attempt seven lasted nine seconds. Attempt eight lasted two.

By the time we drifted into a quiet cove, my arms were jelly, but I was laughing too hard to care. I lay flat on my stomach across my board, letting my legs dangle in the cool water. Jay sat cross-legged on his, watching me with a warm, soft look in his eyes.

"You know," Jay said softly, "most people would’ve stayed on their knees."

"Sounds boring," I replied, rolling onto my side to look at him. "Besides, this is fun."

He stared at me for a beat, his hazel eyes locking onto mine, before a slow smile spread across his face. "You're wild, Tess."

"You invited me. You're stuck with me."

"I'm starting to realize that," he chuckled.

I cupped my hand and splashed a wave of water right into his face.

Jay gasped, dripping. "Oh, it's like that?"

Before I could paddle away, he slipped off his board, swam over with terrifying speed, and tipped my board sideways.

I plunged under, surfaced screaming, "I TRUSTED YOU!" and immediately dragged his floofy-haired, dancer body under the water with me.

By the time he dropped me off in front of my apartment building, the sky was painted in deep purples and oranges. My skin smelled like lake water, and my shoulders were already aching.

I unbuckled my seatbelt and grabbed my bag. "What are we doing tomorrow after rehearsal?"

Jay blinked, caught off guard. "Tomorrow? I... didn't know we were doing something."

"Of course we are," I said, offering him a brilliant grin. "You're the local. Pick something cool. See you tomorrow, Jay."

"See you tomorrow, Tess," he said softly, a genuine, glowing smile lighting up his face as I shut the door.

I walked up the apartment steps, feeling a sudden surge of excitement. Danny might have rejected me from his little clique, but my summer was already turning out to be anything but boring.