Goldfish in the Glow

The house party thumped with bass that vibrated in my chest, but I stood awkwardly by the snack table like I was guarding the chips. First party of sophomore year, and I was already lowkey spiraling. Maya the invisible girl, striking again.

Then I saw him: Connor, aka "The Bull" of the wrestling team, standing by the back door with a red solo cup. I'd been spying on him from across homeroom for weeks, watching the way he animatedly talked with his hands, his hair falling over his eyes when he laughed. Not in a creepy way. Okay, maybe a little creepy. Whatever.

Connor disappeared into the backyard, and without thinking, I followed. Because I'm smooth like that.

The patio was empty except for Connor, crouching beside a small pond illuminated by fairy lights. And there it was—a solitary goldfish swimming confused circles in the water.

"Hey," I said, because apparently my brain had short-circuited.

Connor jumped, nearly face-planting into the pond. He turned, and in the glow of the patio lights, I saw something that made me pause. He looked terrified.

"My sister's goldfish," he explained, gesturing helplessly. "Betting some of the guys they wouldn't jump in to retrieve it. Absolute bull, but no one called my bluff. Now I'm stuck with Nemo."

"Nemo?" I raised an eyebrow. "Pretty sure that's a saltwater fish, but okay."

Connor actually laughed, and it was this genuine sound that made something in my chest flutter. We spent the next twenty minutes sitting on the patio edge, discussing goldfish names (he vetoed "Goldie Hawn"—his loss) and how ridiculous high school parties actually were. He confessed he hated wrestling, only did it because his dad was obsessed. I told him about my secret obsession with horror movies despite being easily scared.

"You're cool, Maya," he said when we finally went back inside, his shoulder brushing against mine.

I walked home that night with a new contact in my phone and the realization that sometimes the scariest risks—like talking to your crush, or admitting who you actually are—are the ones worth taking. Also: Connor was definitely the goldfish in this scenario, and I was the one who'd finally learned to swim.