Goldfish in the Punch Bowl

Maya's heart was literally racing as she stood at the edge of the pool party, clutching her iPhone like it was the only thing keeping her alive. The backyard was packed with juniors from school, everyone dripping wet and laughing like this was literally the best night of their lives. Meanwhile, Maya was fully regretting letting her best friend talk her into coming.

"Maya! You coming in or what?" someone yelled from the pool.

She gave a weak thumbs up and immediately started walking toward the house, phone already in hand to type out a carefully crafted emergency text to her mom. But then she saw him—Ethan, the quiet skater guy from her English class, standing by the snack table and looking equally out of place. He wasn't swimming either. They made awkward eye contact, and Maya felt herself blushing.

That's when she noticed the goldfish swimming in the punch bowl.

No, literally. An actual live goldfish, doing laps in the spiked fruit punch like it owned the place. Someone must have brought it from the carnival game earlier as a "joke."

Maya moved closer without thinking, and Ethan did too. "Is that..." he started.

"Yeah," she said. "That's messed up."

Without saying anything else, they both reached for the small net that someone had left nearby. Their hands brushed for a second, and Maya's stomach did that annoying flutter thing it always did in romcoms when this happened. Together, they scooped out the goldfish and transferred it to a water bottle Ethan had been drinking from.

"Running rescue operation now," Ethan said, and Maya actually laughed.

They spent the next twenty minutes on the front porch, door closed against the party noise, watching the goldfish swim in circles in its new temporary home. Maya's iPhone stayed in her pocket the whole time. Ethan told her about his pet fish growing up, and she admitted she'd never learned to swim properly. He offered to teach her, no judgment.

"Like, actual lessons? Not making fun of me?"

"No cap," he said. "I literally teach kids at the community center in summers."

The goldfish was still swimming when Maya's mom texted—she'd actually forgotten to send the emergency message. Ethan helped her carefully pour the fish into a proper container to take home.

"Same time next week?" he asked as she left.

Maya smiled, genuinely. "For the fish or the swimming lessons?"

"Both," he said, and somehow she knew he meant it.