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.
“It’s legendary ,” Maya corrected, grinning. “Think of the lore.”
“WettMelons.”
A few heads turned. A cluster of middle schoolers pointed. The lifeguard, a guy with sunglasses so cool they looked illegal, cracked a smile. It was horrifying. It was liberating.
