Fox in the Feed

The goldfish stared at me with what I swear was judgment in those bulging eyes. Dad had brought it home as a 'sorry I'm working late again' peace offering, which was honestly laughable. A fish can't make up for missing my choir solo.

I sighed, tapping my iPhone screen. Instagram stories were blowing up with clips from the party I wasn't at—again. Maya posted a mirror selfie with the caption 'birthdayBehavior' and I felt that familiar twist in my chest. FOMO hit different when you were stuck at home watching a fish swim in literal circles.

That's when my phone buzzed. Fox.

Okay, his name was actually Felix, but everyone called him Fox because he was cunning—always knew exactly what to say, how to slide into conversations like he belonged there. We'd been talking for weeks, those late-night DM conversations that made my stomach do gymnastics.

'Working late again?' he'd messaged.

'So sick of this,' I typed back. 'My dad literally bought me a fish to make up for it. A fish.'

'Lol come outside.'

I froze. Outside? At 10 PM on a Tuesday?

But then I was moving, grabbing my hoodie, checking myself in the mirror—hair acceptable, face presentable. The goldfish watched me leave, its mouth opening and closing like it was laughing.

Fox sat on his bike in my driveway, streetlight catching the copper in his hair. He wore that vintage jacket he was always posting about.

'Hey,' he said, like this was totally normal.

'Hey?'

'I brought you this.' He held out a paper cup with a tiny succulent inside. 'Better than a fish, right?'

I took it, our fingers brushing. 'Way better.'

'The party's lame anyway,' Fox said. 'I left early. Thought maybe you'd want to go look at the city lights from the old bridge?'

My heart hammered against my ribs. This was happening. This was really happening.

'Sure,' I heard myself say. 'Let me just—'

'The fish will be fine,' Fox grinned, like he could read my mind.

And as we rode through the quiet streets, my phone tucked safely in my pocket, I thought maybe this goldfish was actually good luck. Or maybe Fox was just cunning enough to make everything feel like destiny.