Goldfish in a Plastic Bag

The carnival lights spun dizzy patterns against the night sky as I clutched the plastic bag with Henry the **goldfish** inside like my life depended on it. My palms were sweating—literally, my **palm** was slick against the bag—and I could feel the awkward radiating off me in waves.

"You gonna let him go or what?" Marcus asked, grinning that grin that made my stomach do unnecessary backflips. We were supposed to be **swimming** in the lake behind his house with the rest of the squad, but instead I was standing there in my oversized sweatshirt and the stupid **hat** I'd refused to take off all night because bad hair day, obviously.

My mom's voice echoed in my head: *Take your **vitamin** D gummies, Maya. Don't stay out too late. Make good choices.* LMAO at that last one because here I was, about to make the worst decision of my freshman year.

"He's my fish," I said, like that made any sense. "I won him fair and square."

Marcus stepped closer, and I could smell his cologne mixed with cotton candy and lake water. "You're scared."

"Am not."

"Are too. You've been hiding under that hat since Jaxon's party last month when you—"

"Okay, shut up." I felt my face burning. The incident would live in infamy: me, attempting to flirt, accidentally spilling punch all over myself, and then trying to play it off like I meant to do that. It had been a whole thing.

Marcus's expression softened. "Just swim with us, Maya. Nobody cares about that stuff except you."

I looked at Henry, doing his little fishy circles in his bag. He was trapped, and so was I, but the difference was he couldn't just jump out of his bag and live a little.

"Fine," I said, shoving the fish bag at him. "Hold Henry."

"His name is Henry?"

"Don't judge me." I pulled off my hat, shook out my hair (actually looked decent for once, lowkey thanks), and sprinted toward the lake. Behind me, I heard Marcus laugh—this genuine sound that made something warm bloom in my chest.

"Wait up!" he called, Henry safely abandoned on a picnic table.

I hit the water feet-first, the shock of cold electric against my skin. When I surfaced, Marcus was already there, treading water, looking at me like maybe, just maybe, I wasn't the weird fish-out-of-water I'd convinced myself I was.

"See?" he said. "Not so scary."

"Shut up," I said again, but I was smiling. "Just shut up and race me to the dock."

"You're on, weirdo."

I kicked off hard, leaving awkward Marcus and overthinking Maya somewhere on the shore, holding her own damn hat.