Goldfish at the Pool Party

The car's ancient air conditioning coughed and died somewhere around the third block, leaving us to roast in silence. My palms were already sweating against the steering wheel—okay, not literally steering, because I was fifteen and my mom was driving, but you get the vibe.

"You nervous?" Mom asked, like she couldn't literally feel the anxiety radiating off me.

"It's just a pool party."

"Just a pool party that you've been obsessing over for literally three weeks."

The Garcia residence materialized around the corner like a social anxiety fever dream:豪车, music that definitely violated noise ordinances, and actual people from school. Actual *cool* people from school.

We pulled into the driveway, and I spotted it immediately—a carnival-style goldfish in a bowl on the kitchen island, because apparently rich people just *had* random goldfish.

"I won it for Mia," Tyler said, appearing out of nowhere with that grin that made my stomach do complicated gymnastics. "She wants to name it Cable. Because of, like, ethernet cables? I don't know, she's weird."

"That's... actually kind of iconic," I managed, and then wanted to die immediately.

His laugh was better than it had any right to be. "You're good at parties. You just *hold it down* here while I grab some drinks."

He vanished, and I was alone with the goldfish. A plastic palm tree decoration leaned against its bowl, and I rested my hand next to it on the counter, trying to look chill and not like I was mentally calculating escape routes.

"You doing okay?" Tyler was back, holding two sodas.

"Yeah. Just vibing. With Cable."

"The goldfish?" He raised an eyebrow. "You know they only have a seven-second memory, right?"

"That's actually a myth."

"Wait, really?"

"Yeah. They can remember stuff for months. They're smarter than people think."

Tyler studied me for a second. "Huh. Cool. Like you."

The pool shimmered behind him, and suddenly my palms weren't sweating anymore.

"Wanna go see if Cable can swim?" I asked.

He grinned. "Bold of you to assume I won't drop the bowl."

"That's the point. We both panic. It's bonding."

"You're chaotic. I respect it."

And maybe that was the thing about goldfish—maybe they didn't have seven-second memories. Maybe they just chose what to remember. And I was absolutely going to remember the way he looked at me, like he was figuring something out too.

"Let's do it," he said. "But if Cable dies, we're telling everyone it was natural causes."

"Deal."