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.

“It’s legendary ,” Maya corrected, grinning. “Think of the lore.”

He splashed back.

Kids used her float as a launching pad. Old Mr. Henderson, who never spoke to anyone, drifted past on a flamingo and tipped his captain’s hat at her. And then, he appeared.

He smiled. A real one. Then, he did something unexpected. He pushed off his blue ring, let it drift away, and grabbed the edge of her chipped watermelon.

“Can I join the WettMelons crew?” he asked.

“WETTMELONS!” she yelled again, this time with gusto.