Goldfish in the Deep End

The pool glittered like a giant blue gem in the backyard of Jessica Parker's house. The invitation had said "pool party," but Maya knew it really meant "social judgment in swimwear."

"You've been staring at your phone for twenty minutes," said Leo, sitting cross-legged on her bed. "Your hair looks fine. It looks amazing, actually."

Maya frowned at her reflection. She'd finally stopped straightening her natural hair last month, letting the curls spring wild and free. But now, standing on the edge of Jessica's pool with everyone staring, she felt like she'd made a terrible mistake.

"Is that... spinach?" someone whispered.

Maya's face burned. She'd had a green smoothie earlier, and apparently, a fleck of spinach had taken refuge between her front teeth. The popular girls giggled. Great. First the hair, now this.

She considered faking a phone call and bolting, but Leo caught her eye from across the pool. He gave her a subtle thumbs-up. They'd been friends since kindergarten, when he'd shared his goldfish crackers with her every day at snack time. Now he was the only person who didn't make her feel like she had to perform.

Suddenly, Maya remembered something. The goldfish she'd won at the carnival last summer—the one that was supposed to die in a week but was somehow still alive in a bowl on her nightstand. That tiny, persistent fish had survived against everyone's expectations.

So could she.

Maya smiled wide, spinach be damned, and did a cannonball into the deep end. The shock of cold water was perfect. When she surfaced, sopping wet and grinning, she found Leo grinning back at her.

"That," he said, "was legendary."

Jessica's friends weren't giggling anymore. They were watching, actually watching, like maybe—just maybe—they'd been measuring the wrong things all along.

Maya's curls dripped down her back like seaweed, and she didn't care. She'd jumped in. She'd survived. And somewhere at home, her goldfish was probably swimming in circles, totally unimpressed by all of this.