Goldfish at the Pyramid Party

Maya's iPhone battery hovered at 4% as she stood across from the pyramid of red solo cups that some sophomore had spent twenty minutes constructing like it was architecture and not just pre-gaming logistics. This was her first real high school party, and she'd spent the last hour nursing the same lukewarm soda while everyone else seemed to know exactly what to do with their hands.

"You look like you're plotting something," said a voice beside her. Maya turned to find a guy in an oversized hoodie with a fox embroidered across the chest—stitched unevenly, like someone's Pinterest craft attempt. "I'm Leo."

"Maya." She swallowed, then her stomach dropped. The mirror check before leaving had missed something crucial. She still had spinach in her teeth from dinner. Actual, visible spinach. Why did the universe choose tonight to demonstrate the cruelty of existence?

Leo didn't seem to notice. He nodded toward the corner where someone had set up a goldfish bowl on a folding table. "Freshman brought it. Says it's his emotional support fish. Pretty sure he's just trying to start a conversation."

The goldfish swam in slow circles, oblivious to being the world's most awkward conversation starter.

"Hey," Leo said, suddenly intense. "I bet you five bucks I can toss a ping pong ball into that bowl from here."

"You'll hit the fish."

"I have surgical precision." He gestured dramatically and knocked into the cup pyramid. The entire structure collapsed, cups cascading everywhere like a plastic waterfall, while someone's phone captured it all on video. Maya wanted to dissolve into the floorboards, but instead she found herself laughing—really laughing—for the first time all night.

Leo turned bright red but started laughing too. "Okay, that was way better than my plan."

"Spinach," she blurted out. "I have spinach in my teeth, don't I?"

"Yeah, but honestly? It's kind of working for you. Gives you character." He pulled a mint from his pocket. "For the record, you're the only person here who doesn't look like they're trying too hard. That's rare."

Her iPhone died completely, taking away the option to hide in it. Standing there with spinach in her teeth, surrounded by fallen cups, with a goldfish swimming in the corner and a boy in a weird fox hoodie who'd just made a fool of himself, Maya realized she didn't need the phone to survive this.

She took the mint. "Teach me how to talk to that goldfish."

"Finally," Leo said. "Someone who understands the real party's in the corner."