Goldfish Confidential

Finn sat on the edge of his bed, staring at the goldfish bowl on his dresser.

"You're gonna be fine, right?" he whispered to the orange fish. "I mean, you've survived this long without me knowing how to swim."

The goldfish - whom he'd dramatically named Neptune - just blew bubbles.

Tomorrow was the first day of freshman swim tryouts, and Finn was panicking. Somehow, in the elaborate social hierarchy of Creekwood High, he'd accidentally let his crush Maya believe he was totally chill at swimming. Now he was locked in.

"Dude, you good?" his best friend Leo asked later that night, sprawled across Finn's beanbag chair. "You've been weird all week."

Finn's orange tabby cat, Nacho, chose that moment to knock over a stack of video games with his tail.

"My cat's a spy," Finn groaned. "He's reporting back to the universe about all my embarrassing moments."

"What embarrassing moments?" Leo raised an eyebrow. "Besides lying about knowing how to swim to impress Maya Rodriguez?"

"HOW DID YOU—"

"Bro, I saw you watching her swim practice yesterday. You were sitting behind the bleachers like some total creeper, pretending to be on your phone. We call that behavior 'low-key spying,' and honestly? It's not your finest moment."

Finn buried his face in his hands. "I'm going to drown. Literally drown in front of everyone. This is it. This is how my social life ends before it even begins."

"Or," Leo said, "you could let me teach you?"

Finn looked up. "Wait, you can swim?"

"I was on the swim team at my old school before I moved here. I literally have a shelf full of medals. You never noticed?"

The next two weeks were a blur. Leo coached Finn through the basics at the community pool on weekends. Nacho the cat would sit by the back door, meowing pitifully, occasionally batting at the glass like a tiny furry supervisor.

Neptune the goldfish got daily updates.

"He almost did a full lap today," Finn would announce to his fish. Leo claimed this was "actually unhinged behavior" but whatever.

Tryout day arrived. Finn's stomach did backflips as he stood poolside in his swim trunks, surrounded by confident-looking athletes who definitely knew what they were doing.

Then he saw Maya in the next lane over, stretching.

"Hey!" she called, waving. "You made it!"

"Yeah," Finn managed, his voice cracking slightly. "Decided to go for it."

Her smile was worth the panic.

He didn't make the competitive team - that would've been unrealistic. But he didn't drown, didn't embarrass himself, and actually made the developmental squad. Maya high-fived him afterward and said they should practice together sometime.

That night, Finn sat on his bed, Nacho curled up beside him.

"Neptune," he said to the goldfish bowl. "I think this might be the start of something good."