Goldfish at the Deep End

The pool glittered like someone had dumped actual diamonds into the water, which honestly would've been less terrifying than what was actually in there: half the sophomore class in various states of undress.

I stood by the snack table, fully clothed, clutching a red solo cup like it was my only tether to reality. The goldfish on my phone screen—Bubbles, my actual pet—seemed to mock me from my lock screen. I understood his struggle completely. Stuck in a tiny bowl, doing the same loops every day, everyone watching but no one actually seeing you. That was sophomore year in a nutshell. That was my entire life.

"You gonna swim or just vibe?" Jamie asked, appearing beside me with a chaotic energy that made my stomach do nervous little flips. She was the kind of person who actually belonged at parties.

"I'm good," I said. "Actually, I was just—"

The host's tabby cat darted past, knocking over a chip bag in a swirl of orange fur and chaos. I flinched so hard I dropped my phone. It landed screen-down on the concrete with a sound that made my heart stop.

Jamie picked it up first.

"Cute wallpaper," she said, handing it back.

I felt my face burning. "It's... my fish."

"A goldfish? That's kind of iconic, honestly." She grinned. "My brother has a tarantula. You win."

I laughed before I could stop myself.

"Hey." She gestured toward the pool where everyone was shouting over music, splashing, existing without overthinking every micro-movement. "Wanna just dip your feet in? No pressure."

I looked at the water, at the cat now curled on a lounge chair like it owned the place, at my phone screen with Bubbles doing his eternal little loop.

Something in me unclenched.

"Yeah," I said. "Yeah, okay."

The water was freezing. Someone cannonballed nearby, sending waves sloshing over my legs. Jamie laughed, and I found myself laughing too, and for the first time all night, I wasn't thinking about how I looked or what to say or whether my goldfish wallpaper was weird.

I was just there.