Goldfish in the Papaya Sun

Leo pulled his beanie hat lower, practically disappearing into its wool embrace. First day of sophomore year, and he'd already decided: new Leo. Confident Leo. Leo who didn't hide in the bathroom during lunch breaks.

His iPhone buzzed in his pocket — probably Maya asking where he was. AGAIN. He'd been ghosting her texts all summer, too embarrassed to admit he'd spent July mostly alone in his room, binge-watching Stranger Things and overthinking everything.

"Leo!" a voice called out. It was Marcus, varsity basketball guy, somehow already surrounded by the kind of people who made Leo's stomach do gymnastics. "You coming to Sarah's party tonight?"

"Yeah," Leo said, before his brain could catch up with his mouth. "Totally."

His phone buzzed again. This time he looked.

Maya: my mom bought papaya again 🤢 tell me this isn't actual food

Leo snorted, then quickly covered it with a cough. Papaya. The fruit that tasted like someone mixed soap with disappointment. He and Maya had spent an entire weekend last year trying to find ways to make it edible. Papaya smoothies. Papaya salsa. Papaya... something with chili powder? None of it worked. They'd laughed until their sides hurt, his mom filming the whole thing on her phone.

That was before. Before everything got weird and distant and Leo stopped knowing how to talk to his oldest friend without feeling like he was faking it.

"You good?" Marcus asked.

"Yeah," Leo said. "Just... thinking about tonight."

At lunch, he spotted Maya at their usual table. Alone. She was pushing food around her tray, phone beside her. His phone lit up.

Maya: carnival gave out goldfish as prizes?? who does that in 2024?? 🐟

Leo's stomach did something different now. Not gymnastics. Something heavier.

He remembered the carnival. Third grade. They'd both won goldfish, named them Bubble and Squeak, and cried for a week when they both died within days. They'd buried them in Maya's backyard under a butterfly bush, which now bloomed purple every spring like a weird little memorial.

His fingers hovered over the screen. New confident Leo would probably walk right over, sit down, make some joke about how goldfish were basically just aquatic disappointments waiting to happen.

Old Leo — real Leo — was still standing there, hand in his pocket, heart doing that familiar thing it did whenever he thought about how badly he'd messed everything up.

He pulled off his hat. Ran a hand through his messy hair. Walked over.

"Papaya's actually growing on me," he said, sliding into the seat across from her.

Maya looked up. For a second, she didn't say anything. Then her mouth twitched.

"Liar."

"I never lie," Leo said. "Except about literally everything this summer."

She laughed. Actually laughed. And just like that, something in his chest unlocked.

"I named him Gerald," she said, pointing at her phone. On screen: a tiny goldfish swimming in a bag.

"Gerald's gonna need a bigger pond," Leo said.

"Wanna help me find one?"

His phone buzzed in his pocket. Probably the party group chat. Probably Marcus asking what time everyone was showing up. Probably something New Leo should care about.

"Yeah," Leo said. "Yeah, I do."

He didn't check the message. Some things could wait.