Goldfish in the Deep End

The **orange** one-piece had seemed like a good idea at Target. Now, standing at the edge of Jake's pool while everyone else looked like they'd stepped out of a TikTok, I felt less fashion-forward and more like a human traffic cone.

"You coming in or what?" Jake called, doing that annoying thing where he splashed water with his palm. His friends laughed. They always laughed at everything Jake said.

I'd spent all summer **running** laps around the neighborhood track, trying to transform myself from the quiet girl who sat behind him in AP Bio into someone he might actually notice. But now that it mattered, my legs felt like lead.

"She's scared!" someone yelled.

"Am not."

"Then jump."

The papaya smoothie I'd chugged earlier suddenly felt like a terrible mistake. My stomach churned as I looked at the blue water, the laughing faces, Jake waiting with this expectant look like he'd already written me off as boring.

I thought about my **goldfish**, RIP Gillbert, who'd lived for three years in a bowl that was too small, **swimming** in endless circles until one day he just... stopped. Was I just swimming in circles too? Running laps, buying swimsuits I hated, trying to become someone else entirely?

The truth hit me like a cannonball: Jake had been in my class for two years and never once asked me a real question about myself. Meanwhile, Maya from my track team had texted me actual paragraphs about her grandmother's surgery last week.

I adjusted my swimsuit straps. Yeah, it was orange. Yeah, it wasn't cute. But it was mine.

"Actually," I said, turning away from the pool, "I think I'm gonna grab some food. Anyone else starving?"

Maya's head popped up from the patio chair. "Finally. I've been dying for real food for an hour."

As we walked toward the snack table, Maya leaned in. "That pool's overrated anyway. Plus, I heard Jake's little brother peed in it earlier."

I laughed—a real one. The orange swimsuit didn't matter. The laps hadn't been a waste. They'd just been leading me to the right finish line all along.