Goldfish at Midnight

Maya's palms were sweating like crazy. Not the cute, dainty glisten either — full-on grip-slippery, the kind that makes you question every life choice leading to this moment. She clutched the red Solo cup like it was her only lifeline, which honestly? It kinda was.

"You're literally vibrating," Chloe whispered, elbowing her. "Chill. It's just Jason's party."

Just Jason's party. Right. The same Jason whose Instagram story showed fifty people having the time of their lives, while Maya stood in the corner feeling like a zombie that had wandered in from the wrong movie set. Three nights of finals week would do that to you.

The backyard was something else: string lights everywhere, a legit above-ground pool, and inexplicably, a tiny goldfish bowl sitting on a table near the snacks. Because nothing says chaotic teen gathering like an unsuspecting aquatic pet.

Maya was mid-awkward shuffle toward the dip when the sky opened up.

Like, actually opened up. Lightning crackled across the sky like something out of a superhero movie, and suddenly everyone was scrambling. Glasses clinked, people shrieked, and in the chaos —

"THE GOLDFISH!"

She didn't think. She just moved. One second Maya was frozen like a deer in headlights, the next she was lunging for that bowl, cradling it against her chest like a newborn while rain plastered her hair to her forehead. Water sloshed everywhere. Tiny fins remained blissfully unaware.

Then she was face-to-face with Him. Jason. The host. The guy she'd been lowkey crushing on since bio lab.

He was drenched. She was drenched. The goldfish was probably questioning all its life decisions.

"You saved Gerald," he said, grinning like this was the most normal thing ever. "That's genuinely iconic."

"Gerald?"

"His name is Gerald now." Jason's hand brushed hers as he helped steady the bowl. "Also, you're literally shaking."

"My palms always do this when I'm not dying of awkwardness," she blurted. The words left her mouth before her brain could intervene.

Jason laughed — actual, real laughter, not the fake stuff people did to be polite. "Same, though. I threw up before this party started."

"YOU?"

"Social anxiety is a beast, man." He shrugged. "But somehow this goldfish rescue is making it better."

The lightning flashed again, illuminating everything in this weird, perfect moment. Maya's palms were still sweaty. The goldfish (Gerald?) was swimming in circles like nothing had changed. And somewhere in the chaos, something shifted.

Maybe parties weren't about being the most confident person in the room. Maybe they were about finding the other people standing there with sweaty palms, pretending they had it together.

"Hey," Jason said, "you want to help me get Gerald inside? I think he's had enough excitement for one night."

Maya grinned. "Absolutely."