Goldfish in the Deep End

The pool party at Tyler's house was supposed to be lit, but honestly? Maya was vibrating with that specific kind of anxiety that only happens when you're sixteen and your crush might show up any second.

She'd spent forty-five minutes on her eyeliner alone.

"You look fine, chill," said Sam, her best friend since fourth grade, currently sprawled on a lounge chair in swim trunks that were somehow both too long and too short at the same time. "You're literally overthinking this."

Easy for him to say. Sam didn't get nervous. Sam just... existed, and people liked him. It was annoying, honestly.

Then Tyler's older sister stumbled out of the house with a plastic bag sloshing with water. Inside, a goldfish—clearly a carnival prize, the kind that usually died within three days—swam in confused circles.

"Who wants him?" she yelled. "I can't keep Steve, my cat's a psycho."

The pool went silent. Then someone cracked up, and suddenly everyone was laughing at this poor fish that was about to be homeless.

Maya found herself standing up. "I'll take him."

"What?" Sam's eyes widened. "Since when do you want a—"

"His name is not Steve," she said, taking the bag and watching the fish flare its gills at her. "That's disrespectful."

"What are you gonna name him?" Sam was grinning now, genuinely amused. "Goldie? Fishy? Omega?"

"No," she said, and then without thinking, "His name is Charlemagne."

"Charlemagne?!" This was from Tyler, who'd swum over. "That's such a random name."

"He's an emperor," Maya said defensively, and then everyone was laughing again, but this time she was laughing too.

By midnight, the real goldfish—Charlemagne, obviously—was in a proper bowl on Maya's bedside table. But something else had shifted. Sam had walked her home, carrying the fish, and they'd talked about everything and nothing for three blocks.

"You know," he said, when they reached her porch, "you're kinda weird. But like, in a good way."

"Thanks?" She raised an eyebrow.

"No, for real. That's what I like about you." He looked away quickly. "I mean, as a friend. Obviously."

Obviously.

But he didn't leave right away. And for the first time all summer, Maya didn't feel anxious about what came next. Just... ready.

Inside, Charlemagne swam a lap around his new castle, and Maya fell asleep with her phone in her hand, three unread messages lighting up the screen.