Catfish Confessions

Maya's cat Luna spent entirely too much time staring at the goldfish bowl. Like, weird amounts of time.

"She's plotting something," Maya said, scrolling through her phone while draped across her bed. Her usual perfect hair was a frizzy disaster today — she'd spent forty-five minutes trying to flatiron it before giving up and throwing it into a messy bun. Which was exactly what she did whenever she was nervous.

"About the fish?" Jordan barely looked up from his Switch. "Luna's twelve pounds of lazy. She can't even catch the laser pointer anymore."

"Not the fish." Maya sat up, her bun threatening to collapse. "About me. About how I'm literally catfishing everyone at school."

Jordan paused his game. "What? You're not catfishing anyone. You're... you."

Maya gestured at her room — K-pop posters, a shelf overflowing with fantasy books, the goldfish bowl (named Glitter, thanks to her eight-year-old cousin's naming choices), and Luna, now dramatically grooming her gold-colored fur.

"This is me. But online?" She held up her phone. "My aesthetic is curated. My hair is never this frizzy. My life looks aesthetic and minimal and —"

"Fake?" Jordan suggested.

"Curated. There's a difference." Maya flopped back onto her pillows. "The Maya online is confident. Has perfect hair. Never gets nervous talking to crushes. The actual Maya has anxiety attacks before social events and a cat that might be a goldfish in disguise."

"Wait, what?"

"Luna acts more like a fish than a cat sometimes. She watches the goldfish like she's studying their ways. I think she's confused about her identity, okay?" Maya laughed, but it sounded thin. "Kind of like me."

Jordan set down his Switch and looked at her. "You know Glitter the goldfish was originally my sister's, right? She won him at a carnival and got bored. That fish has survived three supposed deaths and a cat who thinks she's his spiritual advisor. If a goldfish can figure out how to keep going through all that..."

"What?" Maya smiled.

"Then maybe you can figure out how to be both Mayas. The real one and the curated one." Jordan stood up. "Also, your hair looks fine. It looks like Maya hair."

Maya glanced at her reflection in the mirror behind her door. The frizzy bun was kind of a vibe actually. Luna abandoned her goldfish stakeout to jump on the bed and headbutt Maya's hand.

"Yeah," Maya said, scratching Luna's chin as the cat purred like a tiny motor. "Maybe it's time to stop catfishing myself."

She picked up her phone, opened Instagram, and posted a photo — no filter, no careful curation. Just her, Luna, the world's most dramatic goldfish, and the messiest bun ever.

The real Maya. Finally.