Fish Out of Water

Maya stood in the corner of Jordan's basement, clutching a red plastic cup like it was a lifeline. The air smelled like cheap body spray and impending awkwardness. She'd been here for twenty minutes and already said three sentences total.

"Yo, watch out!" someone yelled.

Buster—Jordan's elderly golden retriever—came barreling through, chased by two sophomores who'd clearly had too much punch. The dog clipped a side table, sending a glass bowl crashing to the concrete floor.

Water everywhere. And somewhere in that spreading puddle, a tiny orange goldfish flopped desperately.

Maya didn't think. She dropped to her knees, cupping her hands around the tiny creature before someone stepped on it. The dog skidded to a halt, sniffing her curiously.

"You good?" It was Jordan, materializing beside her. "That's Finneas. My sister's fish. She's gonna kill me."

"We need... something," Maya said, her heart hammering. "A bowl? Anything?"

Jordan grabbed her empty red cup. Maya gently transferred the fish into it, her hands shaking. The goldish darted around in the shallow water, its gills working overtime.

"You just saved a fish's life," Jordan said, grinning. "That's lowkey heroic."

Maya finally looked up. Jordan's eyes were crinkled at the corners, like this was the best thing that'd happened all night. And suddenly Maya wasn't the awkward new girl anymore. She was just someone who'd dropped everything to save a fish.

"Can I put him somewhere safe?"

"Yeah," Jordan said. "And after? Wanna play Mario Kart? I'm guessing you're better than me at everything."

Maya smiled—really smiled—for the first time since moving to this town. The fish was safe. The dog was snoozing nearby like nothing had happened. And somewhere under the basement's fluorescent lights, Maya felt something shift.

She was still the new girl. Still didn't know the right slang or which lunch table to pick. But maybe—just maybe—she didn't have to figure it all out alone.