Goldfish in the Deep End

The backward baseball cap was Maya's armor — cheap, oversized, and pulled low enough that she could avoid eye contact without trying. It was also, technically, stolen. Her older brother's favorite hat, the one he'd left behind when he moved out last month. Maya figured if she wore it, some of his legendary confidence might rub off on her.

"You good?" Chloe asked, flopping onto the lounge chair beside her. Her best friend since third grade, now somehow radiating a coolness that made Maya feel like she'd missed a memo everyone else got.

"Just soaking in the vibes," Maya lied. The pool party was in full swing — music bumping, people laughing, splash fights erupting everywhere. Maya had been hovering at the edge for forty-five minutes.

"You know what would fix this?" Chloe sat up, eyes glinting with that particular energy that usually preceded questionable decisions. "The goldfish."

Maya's stomach dropped. "You can't be serious."

"I won him at the carnival yesterday! He deserves a life of adventure, Maya. Not some sad existence in a bowl on my nightstand." She produced a plastic bag filled with water from... somewhere. Inside, a tiny orange goldfish swam in confused circles. "We're doing a ceremonial release."

"Chloe, that's a chlorinated pool. You're going to murder him."

"It's called setting him FREE, Maya. God, you're so uptight lately." She was already standing up, marching toward the pool's edge like she was about to christen a ship.

Maya scrambled after her, hat nearly falling off. "Chloe, stop. This is literally the worst idea you've ever had, and you once tried to microwave a Pop-Tart with the foil on."

Chloe paused at the edge, the bag lifted like a weapon. "You're embarrassed of me."

The music seemed to get louder. People were watching now.

"I'm not embarrassed of you," Maya said, and realized it was true. "I'm embarrassed that I still care what these people think. That I'm standing here in my brother's hat pretending to be someone I'm not, while you're actually, unapologetically yourself. It sucks that you're cooler than me, but it's not your fault."

Chloe lowered the bag. A tiny smile tugged at her mouth. "You think I'm cool?"

"I think you're chaotic and sometimes concerning," Maya said. "But yeah. You're the realest person here."

"Fine," Chloe sighed, deflating. "No ceremonial release. But we're still naming him Captain Finroulette."

"Obviously."

They ended up sitting on the pool's edge, feet in the water, goldfish bag floating between them like a tiny orange planet. Around them, the party continued, but Maya stopped trying to be the person who belonged at it. She adjusted her hat, let her knees knock against her best friend's, and thought maybe some of her brother's confidence had rubbed off after all — or maybe she'd just found her own.