Goldfish in the Deep End

The pool at Jordan's house wasn't just a pool — it was where everything changed. The water shimmered like liquid stars in the backyard glow, and I was floating on my back, staring up at the constellation lights strung above us, trying not to think about how Maya hadn't texted back in three days.

"You're brooding again," Jordan said, splashing water at me. Their golden retriever, Barnaby, barked from his spot on the lounge chair like he was judging my life choices.

"I'm not brooding. I'm contemplating existence."

"Same difference." Jordan swam over and leaned against the pool edge next to me. "She'll come around."

"Yeah? Because last time I checked, 'coming around' doesn't usually involve blocking someone on everything and pretending they don't exist since freshman year."

Jordan sighed, that I-don't-want-to-say-this-but-I-have-to sigh. "Maybe she needs space. You kind of dropped the 'I like you' bomb and then immediately went radioactive silent."

"I PANICKED, okay? What was I supposed to do? Casually follow up with 'lol so anyway, want to get bubble tea and ignore my feelings?'" I splashed water frustration-style. "I'm not built for this. I'm literally the person who cried when our class goldfish died because I felt guilty about not naming it."

Jordan cracked up. "That was in fifth grade, get new material."

"Trauma doesn't expire!" I protested, but I was smiling too. Because Jordan was still here, still my best friend even when I was being a mess.

Barnaby abandoned his lounge chair and trotted over to the pool's edge, whining like he wanted in on the emotional labor.

"See? Even the dog thinks you're being dramatic," Jordan said.

"Barnaby supports me emotionally. That's what a REAL friend does."

"Wow, low blow." Jordan fake-pouted, then got serious. "Look, Maya's your friend too. Probably more than that, which is literally the whole problem. But you're not going to fix this by overthinking everything in my pool at midnight."

"So what do I do?"

"Text her. Keep it simple. 'Hey, can we talk?' No explosions, no declarations, just... talk."

I stared at the water rippling around us, thinking about how some things feel impossible until you just dive in. "Okay. But if this goes sideways, you're buying me boba for a month."

"Deal." Jordan grinned. "Now get out of my pool, you're turning into a prune."

Barnaby barked in agreement.

"Fine, fine. But I'm taking the dog for emotional support."

"Barnaby, betrayal!" Jordan called as I climbed out, dripping pool water everywhere, grabbing my phone with trembling fingers.

Hey. Can we talk?

Three words. Simple. Scary. The start of everything or the end. Either way, I wasn't drowning in it alone.