Goldfish in the Palm

Maya's legs burned as she hit her third mile, running the same route she'd taken every day since freshman year. Her phone buzzed in her pocket—probably the group chat blowing up about Tyler's party tonight. The one she hadn't RSVP'd to yet.

She slowed to a walk, catching her breath against the rough bark of an old oak tree. Her palm was sweating, leaving a dark patch on her running shorts. Classic.

At home, she flopped onto her bed and stared at her goldfish bowl. Cornelius swam in lazy circles, his orange scales catching the afternoon light. "You're living the dream, Corny," she muttered. "No parties. No expectations. Just swimming and eating."

Her phone lit up again. Taylor: "you coming tonight?? luke's gonna be there (;"

Maya groaned into her pillow. She'd been crushing on Luke since seventh period English, when he'd let her borrow a pen and their fingers had brushed for like, three seconds. She'd spent weeks overanalyzing that three-second moment.

The goldfish swam to the front of his bowl, staring at her with his mouth opening and closing like he had something to say. "What? You think I should go?"

Cornelius did a little flip.

"That's not helpful,"

Two hours later, Maya stood in Taylor's backyard, clutching a red solo cup like it was a lifeline. Fairy lights were strung between palm trees, casting everything in a warm glow that felt way too romantic for her current anxiety level.

Then she saw Luke by the snack table, exactly where her friends said he'd be. He was wearing that stupid vintage band tee she loved. Her heart did that embarrassing flutter thing.

She reached for a bag of chips at the same time he did. Their hands brushed. Again.

"Sorry," she said, way too loud.

Luke grinned. "Maya, right? English class?"

"Yeah! The pen guy!" Why did she say that. Who calls someone "the pen guy."

He laughed, though. A genuine laugh. "I prefer Luke, but pen guy works."

They talked for twenty minutes about everything and nothing. He had a dog named Nacho. He was on the track team too. He thought goldfish were underrated pets.

"My fish gives better advice than most people," Maya said before she could stop herself.

Luke's eyes sparkled. "I respect that."

Later, walking home with her shoes in her hands and Taylor's number (Taylor had slipped it into Luke's pocket, because she was indeed a chaotic genius), Maya thought about Cornelius waiting in his bowl.

"Okay," she whispered to the empty street. "Okay."

The palm trees waved in the warm breeze, and for once, the night ahead didn't feel so scary anymore.