Goldfish Confessions

The secondhand snapback sat three inches too high on my head, a neon billboard announcing I was trying too hard. I'd spent forty-five minutes positioning my curly hair just so—sweeping it to the side like the popular kids did, even though it wanted to explode into a million directions anyway.

"You look like you're about to sell me vape pens behind the gym," Jordan said, not looking up from their phone. We sat on the floor of my bedroom, my pet goldfish Luna doing lazy laps in her bowl on the nightstand. She'd been my only consistent friend since middle school, which said everything about my social capital.

"Shut up. This is the look." I adjusted the hat again. "Tomorrow's the first day of sophomore year. I need a vibe."

"Your 'vibe' is giving midlife crisis at fifteen," Jordan said, finally cracking a smile. "Also, you're gonna wear that inside? Bold choice."

My mom called from downstairs: "Mijo, I cut up some papaya for you guys!"

"Coming!" I yelled back. To Jordan: "See? Moms love me. That's gotta count for something."

"Moms loving you is literally the opposite of cool, but okay."

We went downstairs. My mom had arranged the papaya on a plate with those little toothpick umbrellas she'd saved from a party in 2019. She beamed at us like we were her greatest achievements instead of two awkward teens about to navigate the social battlefield of high school.

"So," she said, eyeing my hat. "What's with the"

"It's called fashion, Mom. You wouldn't understand."

I took a bite of papaya. It was sweet and weird and unfamiliar, like I was about to be. Jordan watched me, suddenly serious.

"You know," they said, "Luna's been alive for three years. That's longer than anyone else at school has known you."

"What's your point?"

"My point is, maybe you don't need the hat. Maybe you're fine as is."

I looked at my reflection in the sliding glass door. The hat was ridiculous. But so was trying to be someone I wasn't. I took it off, letting my hair do whatever it wanted.

"Better?" I asked.

Jordan grinned. "Mid. But in a good way."