Goldfish at Sunset

The invitation sat on my desk for three days before I worked up the nerve to RSVP yes. Maya's pool party. The social event of the summer, according to Chloe's Snapchat story. I'd been to exactly one pool party in my life, back when I was twelve and still thought diving for colorful plastic rings was peak entertainment.

Now, standing here in my orange one-piece—because apparently my mom thought "bright colors would help you make friends"—I felt like I was wearing a neon sign that screamed PROJECT YOUR INSECURITIES HERE.

I perched on a patio chair, nursing a lukewarm soda, watching everyone else live their best lives. The pool water sparkled like someone had dumped a truckload of glitter into it. Maya floated on an inflatable flamingo, surrounded by her court of admirers. Tyler was doing cannonballs off the diving board, each splash eliciting screams and laughter.

Then I saw it.

A tiny goldfish, darting through the chlorinated water like it owned the place.

I blinked. Surely I was hallucinating. But there it was again—a flash of orange scales against blue pool liner, somehow still swimming despite everything that should have killed it.

"Hey," someone said beside me. I jumped, nearly spilling my soda.

It was Tyler, dripping wet and grinning like he hadn't just spent the last hour being the loudest person at the party. "You see the fish too?"

"You can see it?"

"Yeah!" He dropped onto the chair next to mine, smelling like chlorine and summer. "Maya's little brother dumped his whole aquarium in there this morning. Thought they'd be happier 'free.' Most didn't make it, but that one goldfish is basically immortal now."

I stared at him. "That's... kind of awful?"

"Totally." He matched my tone perfectly. "But also kind of metal, right? Like, that fish is living its best life despite all odds. Inspirational, really."

I laughed before I could stop myself.

We spent the next hour watching the goldfish make its laps around the pool, pointing it out to each other whenever it surfaced. Tyler made up a whole backstory about how it was secretly planning its escape, how it was actually a prince transformed by a witch, how it would one day grow legs and walk among us.

The sun began to set, painting everything in shades of tangerine and coral. The pool lights flickered on, turning the water into something glowing and otherworldly.

"Hey," Tyler said suddenly, standing up and extending a hand. "Wanna go on a rescue mission?"

"What?"

"Operation Save Goldfish. Before it gets sucked into the filter." He wiggled his fingers. "Come on. We're literally the only ones who care."

I looked at the water, at my orange swimsuit, at the group of popular kids who hadn't noticed my existence until now. Then I took his hand.

We ended up running—actually RUNNING—into the pool fully clothed, sneakers and all, splashing and laughing like maniacs while Maya and her friends stared like we'd lost our minds. We spent twenty minutes coordinating our goldfish extraction strategy like it was a NASA mission, eventually cupping it between our four hands and transferring it to a random water bottle someone had left behind.

"There," Tyler said, holding up the bottle like a trophy. "One liberated goldfish, now safely contained."

My hair was plastered to my face. My sneakers squelched when I walked. I was pretty sure my orange swimsuit was see-through now.

I'd never had more fun in my entire life.