Goldfish at the Deep End

The chlorine stung my eyes as I floated in Marcus's backyard pool, trying to look casual. My first real party. My chance to finally be someone.

"You gonna swim or just float like a dead goldfish?"

I looked up. It was Chloe, the girl I'd been crushing on since September. She was laughing, but not in a mean way. Her friends sat on the pool edge, legs dangling in the water, forming the kind of tight-knit circle I'd spent years trying to break into.

"I'm thinking," I said, which was honestly the worst comeback ever.

"About what?" she asked, swimming closer.

"About how my so-called friend ditched me the second we got here," I muttered. Marcus had disappeared into the house twenty minutes ago to "get more sodas" and never returned.

"Marcus is being a total bull," she said, rolling her eyes. "He pulled the same thing at Jordan's party last month."

I blinked. "You remember that?"

"Why wouldn't I?" She splashed water at me. "Unlike what everyone says about goldfish, my memory's actually pretty decent."

We spent the next hour talking in the shallow end while her friends gradually drifted away. About how much we both hated small talk at parties. About how we both felt like everyone else had gotten some secret handbook on How To Be Cool that we'd missed.

"You know what's messed up?" she said eventually. "I've been in your English class all year and we never talked until today."

"Because I thought you were out of my league," I admitted, feeling my face heat up even in the cool water.

"And I thought you thought you were too cool for anyone," she laughed. "We're both just swimming around assuming stuff about each other."

The screen door slid open. Marcus reappeared, looking flushed and holding a solo cup. "Yo, what's up?" he called, like he hadn't completely abandoned me.

I looked at Chloe. She made a face.

"You know what?" I said, standing up in the waist-deep water. "I'm good."

Sometimes you outgrow people. Sometimes you find the ones who'll tread water with you in the deep end even when they don't have to.

"Want to get out of here?" she asked. "There's this goldfish place downtown that's still open. They have those really cool telescopic ones."

"Only if you promise not to flush it if we win one."

"Deal."

As I climbed out of the pool, dripping and shivering and happier than I'd been in months, I realized something: the real party wasn't in the water. It was finding someone who'd float beside you instead of leaving you to swim alone.