Dead Fish Walking

My life had officially become a **cable** knit sweater of disasters—tangled, unraveling, and somehow still holding together.

"You look like a **zombie**," Maya said, sliding into the booth across from me at The Bean. "No offense to actual zombies."

"None taken," I mumbled into my caramel macchiato. I'd been running on three hours of sleep since finals week started, and the dark circles under my eyes had their own dark circles.

She slid a crumpled flyer across the table. "Check this out. My brother's friend's cousin started this 'youth entrepreneurship' thing. We could be making, like, five grand a month."

I squinted at the paper. **Pyramid** Scheme. It literally said "Pyramid Marketing" in bold letters, like they weren't even trying to hide it anymore.

"Maya," I said, "this is a pyramid scheme."

"It's NETWORK MARKETING, Chloe. God, you're so negative." She flipped her hair. "Anyway, are you coming to Jordan's party tonight? Everyone's gonna be there."

The social hierarchy at Northwood High operated like a pyramid, and Jordan sat comfortably at the apex. I was somewhere in the foundation—structural support, barely acknowledged, definitely not invited to the penthouse suite.

"Can't," I said. "My **goldfish** died."

"You've had Goldie for three years," she said, already distracted by her phone. "It was literally a matter of time."

"I need a period of mourning. Also, my mom's making me watch my little sister."

"You're so lame." But she grinned. "Text me if you escape."

Goldie was actually fine, swimming lazily in his bowl on my dresser. I'd named him that ironically because he was mostly orange-ish with about the same attention span as me during calculus. But sometimes you need to bail on Friday night plans without explaining that you're emotionally exhausted from pretending to care about pyramid schemes and parties where you'll stand in the corner holding red Solo cups like props.

I lay in bed watching zombie movies on cable—actual ones this time, not just me living my life—until my phone buzzed.

Maya: This pyramid scheme is actually a cult

Maya: they want us to buy 500 energy drinks

Maya: HELP

I laughed so hard Goldie did a little flip. Some weeks were messy and weird and felt like you were barely holding it together. But at least I wasn't joining a cult. Small wins.

"You and me both, buddy," I told Goldie, who swam to the top of his bowl like he understood everything and nothing at the same time.