Goldfish Goggles

I'm not paranoid. I'm just aware.

Okay, maybe I'm a little paranoid. But when you're the only guy in sophomore year who still brings his lunch in a dinosaur-shaped lunchbox, you learn to keep your head down. That's why I never take off my beanie — it's basically a force field against social interaction.

I felt like a zombie anyway. Three hours of sleep because my little brother decided 2 AM was the perfect time to practice drums. I was shuffling through seventh period study hall, functioning on autopilot, when I noticed her watching me.

Chloe, the girl who sat three rows back and somehow always smelled like sunshine.

She caught me looking. I quickly shifted my gaze to the classroom's pet goldfish, Ginger, who was doing lazy laps in her tiny bowl. Great. Now I looked like a goldfish-stalker. I pulled my hat down lower, wishing I could just dissolve into the desk.

"You know," a voice said from behind me. "You're like a spy or something. Always watching, never talking."

I turned around. Chloe was standing there, holding an orange like it was a treasure. "I'm not a spy."

"Could've fooled me." She peeled the orange, and the citrus scent cut through the stale classroom air. "I see you watching everything. You notice things other people don't."

"I just... I don't like being noticed."

"That's ironic," she said, tossing me an orange slice. "Because I've been trying to get your attention for weeks."

My brain short-circuited. "Wait — what?"

She laughed, and it was this sound that made something in my chest feel light for the first time in forever. "You're not a zombie, you know. Even when you look dead tired, you're still the person who rescued Ginger when the tank filter broke. You're the guy who helped Mr. Henderson carry books when he dropped them. You're not invisible."

I looked at the goldfish swimming peacefully in her bowl, completely unbothered by the world outside.

"Maybe," I said, finally meeting Chloe's eyes. "But sometimes being invisible feels safer."

"Safe isn't the same as happy." She sat on the edge of the desk next to mine. "So, spy, what else have you noticed about me?"

I hesitated, then decided to take the risk. "That you always wear mismatched socks. That you doodle dragons in the margins of your notes. That you're probably way more interesting than anyone gives you credit for."

Chloe's grin widened. "See? You really are a spy."

For the first time all year, I didn't feel like hiding. Maybe taking off the hat wouldn't be so scary after all.