Goldfish in the Deep End

The party music thumped against my ribs like a second heartbeat. I stood by the chain-link fence, clutching my red solo cup like it contained the antidote to social death, watching everyone else float in the Walters' above-ground **pool** like they'd been born there.

That's when I saw Tyler — the biggest **bull** at Westwood High, the kind of guy who made underclassmen cross to the other side of the hallway — cannonball into the water, sending a wave that splashed half the party. Everyone laughed. I adjusted my glasses and wished I could dissolve into the patio furniture.

I'd been crushing on Maya since freshman year. She was over there now, floating on an inflatable flamingo, hair wet and perfect, laughing at something Tyler said. Meanwhile, I was three days into my braces journey and had just discovered the **spinach** from dinner wedged between my front brackets like a tiny green betrayal.

"You gonna stand there all night or actually swim?" Maya's voice cut through my spiral.

She'd paddled over. The inflatable flamingo bobbed beside her like a demented pet.

I panicked. "Just warming up."

"That's not what your face says." She tilted her head. "You look like a **goldfish** that just realized its bowl is actually a tiny prison."

I laughed despite myself. "Wow. That's... surprisingly specific."

"My brother had one. Lasted three days before my cat got it. Sad funeral, though. We buried it in the backyard with a popsicle stick cross." She splashed water at me. "Get in here, Leo."

I took a breath and stepped toward the pool ladder. The water looked terrifying and amazing all at once — like jumping off a cliff into something that might break you or change everything.

"Wait," Maya said suddenly, her eyes widening. "You've got..." She pointed to her own front teeth.

**Spinach**. The absolute worst timeline. This was it. This was how I died.

I reached in, fished it out, and said, "Well, that was not the vibe I was going for."

Maya laughed. A real one, head thrown back, the kind of laugh that made you want to cause it again and again. "You're ridiculous."

"Is that good or bad?"

"Good." She paddled backward, grinning. "Come find out."

I jumped. The water shocked my skin, cool and electric, and somewhere beneath the surface, I felt something shift — like maybe I wasn't the kind of person who stood on the sidelines anymore.