Goldfish Funeral

Leo's cat Mittens sat on his desk, tail flicking with what looked suspiciously like judgment. The empty fishbowl beside her reflected his room—cluttered with unfinished homework and the remains of yesterday's outfit.

"You ate him," Leo said, not for the first time. "You literally ate Goldie while I was at school."

Mittens yawned, displaying zero remorse.

His mom burst in without knocking. "Leo! We need to talk about dinner with the Chen family tonight."

"Can I just stay home?"

"Absolutely not. Mrs. Chen's son Tyler is starting at your school. Be nice. And please try the spinach salad this time—no more dramatic gagging at the table."

Leo groaned. Last time they'd had dinner with the Chens, he'd accidentally insulted Tyler's lacrosse career by saying he "didn't get sports." Tyler had spent the rest of the evening calling him "Einstein" in a voice that suggested it wasn't a compliment.

The dinner was already a disaster when Leo arrived. Tyler was holding court in the living room, holding forth about his summer at "bull camp" (which Leo later learned was actually a leadership retreat, but the image of Tyler trying to wrestle actual bulls gave him secret joy).

"Sup, Einstein," Tyler said, spotting him. "Still reading books bigger than your head?"

Leo's face burned. His sister kicked him under the table—hard—when he didn't respond.

Then his mom brought out the main dish. "I made everyone's favorite! Saag paneer with fresh spinach!"

Tyler's face went pale. "Uh, no thanks. I'm allergic."

"Allergic to spinach?" Leo couldn't help it. "Seriously?"

"Shut up."

"What happens? Do you turn into a cartoon character who gets all swole?"

Something weird happened. Tyler cracked a smile. "Actually, I just puke everywhere. It's not cute."

Leo laughed. "Okay, that's fair. That's definitely not cute."

They spent the rest of dinner making fun of Tyler's "bull camp" stories (Leo was right—Tyler had tried to wrestle a calf and lasted literally three seconds). By dessert, Tyler was calling him "Leo" instead of "Einstein."

Later that night, Leo found Mittens asleep on his pillow. The empty fishbowl caught the light from his phone—Tyler had texted him a meme about bulls.

"Maybe," Leo whispered to Mittens, "some things have to die so better things can happen."

Mittens opened one eye, then closed it. Obviously. She was a cat. She didn't care about his character development.

But Leo smiled anyway. Tomorrow at school might not be so bad after all.