Goldfish at the Party

My palms were sweating before I even stepped through the door. Maya's Sweet Sixteen. The invitation said 'casual' but I knew better — casual meant wear that outfit you spent three hours overthinking, the one that says I'm not trying too hard while definitely trying too hard.

Inside, the bass thumped against my chest like a second heartbeat. I grabbed a soda from the kitchen and spotted them: a bowl of three **goldfish** in the center of the snack table, swimming in tight circles like they were trapped in some neon-lit prison. Great. Even the decorations were more anxious than me.

Then I saw Leo.

He was **running** a hand through that messy dark hair, laughing at something Jordan said. My stomach did that thing it always did around him — like someone had set off fireworks in my gut. Last week, when we'd been partnered for chem lab, he'd called me a '**fox**' when I'd correctly balanced an equation on the first try. I'd played it cool, nodding like it was nothing, but I'd replayed that moment approximately eight thousand times since.

Before I could psych myself out, I made my way over. But Maya's **cat**, Mochi, had other plans. The orange tabby wound between my legs, and I tripped. My soda splashed everywhere — mostly on Jordan's shoes.

'Oh my god, I am so sorry.' My face burned hotter than the sun.

Leo turned. His eyes found mine.

'Jordan needed his shoes cleaned anyway,' he said, deadpan. Then he grinned, and somehow I was grinning too. We ended up on the back porch, away from the noise and the goldfish and everyone performing coolness like a second language we'd barely learned.

'These parties are exhausting, right?' he said, leaning against the railing. 'Like, why do we do this to ourselves?'

I looked at him — really looked at him — and realized his palms were sweating too. That small detail made everything click. We were all just pretending, none of us had it figured out, and suddenly I didn't feel so alone.

'Yeah,' I said. 'But the porch is nice.'

He smiled, and it was real. 'Yeah. It really is.'

The goldfish kept swimming their circles inside, but out here, under the porch light, something shifted. Maybe that's what growing up felt like — not becoming someone new, but finding the courage to be who you already were.