Goldfish Funeral at Midnight

The text lit up my screen at 11:47 PM: 'Party at the creek. Everyone's gonna be there. You coming?'

I hesitated. This was it — my chance to finally break out of my background-character role in sophomore year. Maya had been my best friend since kindergarten, but ever since she started dating Jackson, I'd been third-wheeling harder than a spare tire at a Formula 1 race.

'Yeah,' I typed back, thumbs trembling. 'On my way.'

The party was already chaos when I arrived. Someone had dragged a Bluetooth speaker to the edge of the water, and bass thudded against my chest. Kids from school clustered around coolers, red Solo cups in hand like props from a movie I'd binge-watched but never lived.

Then I saw him.

Fox. That's what everyone called Leo, ever since he'd dyed his hair copper freshman year and the nickname stuck like glitter on craft day. He was standing by himself, skipping stones across the creek's surface. Each hit made perfect concentric circles that disappeared into the darkness.

'Nice form,' I said, before my brain could veto my mouth.

Fox looked up, startled. Then he smiled — actually smiled, not the fake one he gave teachers. 'Thanks. Practiced all summer when I was at my dad's.'

We ended up sitting on the muddy bank, talking about everything and nothing. He told me about his parents' divorce. I confessed that I'd never been to a party before tonight. The noise from the party faded until it was just background texture.

'So what's with the goldfish?' Fox asked suddenly, pointing to something behind me.

I turned. A girl I barely recognized was holding a plastic bag filled with water, a lone goldfish swimming in frantic circles. 'It's Bubbles!' she announced dramatically to nobody in particular. 'I'm setting him free!' Before anyone could react, she dumped the bag into the creek.

The goldfish floated there, confused, before darting toward deeper water.

'Bold move,' Fox said, but his voice carried something else — like he got it, somehow. The symbolism of releasing something small because you couldn't hold onto it anymore.

'Yeah,' I said. 'Bold.'

My phone buzzed. Maya: 'WHERE R U??? Jackson's looking for u'

I didn't answer. For the first time in forever, I was exactly where I needed to be, watching someone else's goldfish swim away in the dark water, sitting beside a boy who skipped stones like he was practicing for something important.

Sometimes growing up meant realizing your best friend was becoming someone you didn't know. And sometimes it meant finding a new one in the last place you expected.