Goldfish in the Deep End

The papaya sat on the counter, looking exotic and judgmental. Mom had bought it because "it's good for you," which basically meant it tasted like confusion and healthy choices.

"You're not even going to try it?" Maya asked from where she sprawled on my bed, scrolling through her phone. She'd been over since noon, avoiding her own house because her parents were doing that thing where they "discussed things loudly" in normal voices.

"It looks like an alien organ," I said, poking at it. "Also, my phone's dead. The cable's frayed again."

"Use the portable charger I gave you for your birthday. The one you claimed you'd never lose?" Maya raised an eyebrow, and I felt my face get hot.

"Okay, so I lost it. Or it's somewhere in my room. Possibly another dimension."

We were supposed to be at Tyler's pool party. Everyone was going. Tyler, who'd transferred in three months ago and already had more social capital than I'd built in three years. Tyler, with the perfect smile and the pool and the confidence that came from having never had an awkward phase in his life.

Instead, I was here, avoiding papaya and admitting I'd lost yet another thing.

"You should go," Maya said, sitting up. "Seriously. It'll be fine."

"I can't just show up alone. That's weird. That's 'arriving alone to a party when everyone's already in their friend groups' weird."

"So we'll go together."

"You don't even like Tyler."

"I don't not like him," Maya said. "Also, his cousin is supposedly coming. The one from college."

"And you care about this because...?"

"I don't! Information just accumulates in my brain, okay?" She stood up and stretched. "Come on. The pool probably has water that's actually cold, unlike your shower."

We got there twenty minutes later, me in my old swimsuit that I'd grown out of slightly and Maya in her new one that she'd definitely planned ahead for. The backyard was already full of people I recognized from school but had never actually spoken to.

Tyler appeared almost immediately, dripping wet and grinning like being the host was natural. "You made it!"

"Yeah," I said, feeling like my voice was too small. "Brought snacks."

"Awesome." He didn't even care that I hadn't brought anything. That was the thing about popular people — they just assumed you'd contributed somehow.

The afternoon passed in a blur of splash fights and awkward conversations that ended with people saying "anyway" and moving away. I was sitting on the pool edge, feet in the water, when something orange caught my eye.

A goldfish. Just, swimming in the deep end like it owned the place.

"Is that...?" I started to ask.

"Oh yeah," said someone I didn't know. "Tyler's got like, twelve of them now. They're supposed to be in a tank but they keep escaping. It's weirdly impressive."

A goldfish, in a pool, pretending it was an ocean creature. Pretending it belonged somewhere it definitely didn't.

I held out my palm and watched the water ripple against it. The fish swam closer, investigating, like maybe my hand was interesting. Like maybe I was interesting.

Maya appeared beside me, holding a slice of papaya on a paper plate. "I stole this from inside," she whispered. "Want to see what the fuss is about?"

I took a bite. It was sweet and musky and nothing like I expected. Not bad, just... different. Like maybe I'd been wrong about it.

"Well?" Maya asked.

"Not terrible," I admitted. "Actually kind of good."

The goldfish swam away, back to the deep end where the other fish were gathering. They moved together, a little orange fleet, completely unbothered by being in the wrong place.

"You know what?" I said, standing up. "I'm going in. The actual deep end, not just sitting here."

Maya grinned. "Finally. But be warned — I'm going to splash you so hard."

I jumped in, water cool and shocking against my skin, and came up sputtering while Maya laughed. Tyler waved from the other end of the pool, and I waved back, feeling suddenly like maybe I wasn't as out of place as I'd thought.

The goldfish circled my legs, and I wondered if it felt the same way — like belonging somewhere didn't mean you had to understand why you were there. You just had to be brave enough to get in the water.