Goldfish in My Pocket

The **orange** neon sign above the gas station flickered, matching my mood. Deadass, I never should've agreed to house sit for my aunt while she's in Bali.

"You got this, Leo," I whispered to myself, though my voice cracked.

Inside the house, complete chaos awaited. My cousin Jen's **goldfish** — named Captain Fin, obviously — was floating sideways in its bowl. Meanwhile, her **dog**, a chaotic golden retriever named Bucket, had somehow gotten into the pantry and scattered what looked like an entire bottle of prenatal **vitamin** gummies across the kitchen floor.

"No, no, NO!" I lunged for Bucket, who was now happily chewing on the plastic bottle.

My phone buzzed. *Incoming call: Maya*

Maya. The girl I'd been lowkey crushing on since seventh grade. Who I'd accidentally promised to hang out with tonight. Who was now calling me while I was literally barefoot in a kitchen covered in dog slobber and exploded vitamins.

"Yo," I answered, trying to sound casual.

"Leo! I'm outside. You busy?"

Behind me, Bucket knocked over the fish bowl. **Water** and a very confused-looking goldfish flooded across the linoleum.

"Not at all," I lied, watching Captain Fin flop his way toward freedom. "Come in."

What followed was the most unhinged ten minutes of my life. Maya walked in to find me on my knees, frantically scooping up a flopping goldfish with my bare hands while Bucket jumped around like "THIS IS A GAME RIGHT."

She stared. Then she burst out laughing. Not mean laughing — but the genuine, can't-breathe kind.

"I can explain," I said, holding a dripping fish like it was a sacred offering.

"Please do."

Somehow, we ended up sitting on the kitchen floor, bucketing water back into the fish bowl while Bucket licked Maya's face. She told me about how she failed her driving test twice. I admitted I was terrified of high school starting next month.

"We're all just flopping around like that fish," Maya said, watching Captain Fin swim in confused circles. "Trying to figure out which way is up."

When my aunt gets back from Bali, she's going to find her kitchen cleaner than she left it. Maya helped me clean everything up. And Captain Fin? Somehow, that fish was still alive.

Maybe things don't have to be perfect to be okay. Maybe you can have orange neon mood lighting, a near-death goldfish experience, and still end up sitting on a kitchen floor with someone who makes you laugh until your ribs hurt.

"Same time next week?" Maya asked at the door.

"Bet," I said.

And for the first time all summer, I wasn't lying.