Goldfish Ghost in the Cable Box

Maya's goldfish, Admiral Bubblebeard, had been dead for three weeks. Her mom kept forgetting to flush him, and honestly? The little guy was growing on her. Literally. A fuzzy green mold colony was establishing itself on his orange scales, and Maya respected the hustle.

"You're like a zombie," she told the fishbowl. "But cooler. You don't need brains."

Maya knew about zombies. She'd been one since freshman year started—dragging herself through AP Bio, surviving on three hours of sleep and an IV drip of vanilla cold brew. Her eyeliner was permanently smudged. Her will to live? Questionable.

Then she saw him.

New kid. Leather jacket. Dark hair that fell into his eyes like he didn't care (but definitely cared). He sat alone at lunch reading a paperback with some kind of sphinx on the cover.

Maya decided to become a spy.

Not like, creepy spy. Just strategic intelligence gathering. For friendship purposes. Definitely not because his jawline could cut glass and she was weak.

Her first mission: establish proximity. This coincided perfectly with her second mission: figure out why her living room TV had been showing nothing but static since Tuesday.

"Cable's out again," her dad groaned, poking at the tangled wires behind the entertainment center. "Maya, you're good with technology. Come help."

Maya squatted beside him,phone flashlight illuminating the dust bunny graveyard behind the TV stand. And there it was—the problem. A cable had come loose from the back of the cable box. She reached for it just as the front door opened.

"Hey, I'm home early," her older sister called. "Brought someone."

Maya froze. Then she turned around slowly, still clutching the cable, and there he was. New kid. In her living room. Looking at her crouched on the floor in pink pajama pants with flamingos on them.

"You're the sphinx book guy," she said, because her brain had stopped filtering.

He blinked. "You're the girl who fell asleep in the cafeteria yesterday."

Maya considered faking her own death. Instead, she stood up, offered her free hand, and said, "I'm Maya. My goldfish is molding in the other room if you want to see something deeply concerning."

That was the moment Maya the zombie woke up. And that was the moment she learned Admiral Bubblebeard's true purpose: wingfish for the socially anxious.

"Weirdly," New Kid said, shaking her hand, "I would actually love that."