Goldfish in a Plastic Bag

The carnival lights blurred against my sweating palms as I clutched the plastic bag like my life depended on it. Inside, a tiny orange goldfish swam in confused circles, totally unaware that it was supposed to be my ticket to Maya's heart.

"You got this, Leo," Marcus muttered beside me, already halfway through his funnel cake. "Just walk up there, give her the fish, say something cool. Maybe mention how its colors match her earrings."

"That's literally the worst advice anyone has ever given me," I said, but my voice cracked anyway.

My iphone buzzed in my pocket. Again. The group chat was blowing up with everyone asking where I was, but I couldn't look. If I checked my phone now, I'd lose my nerve, and the goldfish would end up living in my bedroom while I continued to be Maya's lab partner who existed on the periphery of her life.

She was by the ticket booth, laughing with Chloe, whose older brother had driven them here. Maya's golden retriever, Buster, sat at her feet – her mom had dropped him off on their way to the fair because apparently he couldn't be left alone anymore. Buster was living the dream.

I walked over. My sneakers squeaked on the pavement. I may have looked like I was heading toward execution.

"Leo!" Maya's face lit up, and my stomach did that annoying flip thing. "You made it!" She scratched Buster behind the ears, and his tail thumped against the ground.

"Yeah. Um." I held out the plastic bag. "I won this. At the ring toss. And I thought... maybe you'd want it?"

Silence. Chloe looked at me. Maya looked at the fish. The fish looked at nothing, because fish don't really look at things.

"A goldfish?" Maya asked, and I couldn't tell if she was about to laugh or cry.

"His name is Cornelius," I said, because apparently I was committing to this bit. "I didn't know what else to do with him."

Maya's shoulders started shaking. Then she was laughing, not mean laughter but real laughter, the kind that makes you laugh too even when you're confused. Buster chose that moment to stand up and plant his wet nose directly in my palm.

"Oh my god, Leo," she said, wiping her eyes. "You're the only person I know who would win a fish and immediately think of me." She took the bag, and our fingers brushed. "This is actually really sweet. In a weird way."

"Weird good or weird bad?"

"Weird good." She smiled, and something in my chest that had been tight all night finally loosened. "Wanna help me name him properly? Cornelius is terrible."