Goldfish in the Spinach Dip

The bowl of spinach dip sat untouched on the kitchen counter, looking like something you'd feed a goldfish. Which was exactly my first thought when I caught Jordan staring at it like it was personally offending her.

"You okay?" I asked, leaning against the fridge. My dad had forced his weird vitamin routine on me before I left—"Build that immune system, Maya!"—and I still had the chalky taste in my mouth.

Jordan jumped. "Oh, yeah. Just hungry. But also... not hungry?"

I nodded like this made perfect sense. We were at Tyler's first real party, and the air was thick with that awkward energy where everyone was trying to look like they belonged here. The kitchen was crowded, people passing around red cups like they were ancient artifacts.

"My mom thinks I'm at Sarah's studying," Jordan admitted quietly. Then her eyes went wide. "Wait, why did I tell you that?"

"Because we're both lowkey freaking out?" I suggested, and she cracked a smile.

"Maybe." She poked at the spinach dip with a chip. "You know what's weird? I keep thinking about that poster in Tyler's room. The one with the goldfish jumping out of the bowl."

I knew exactly which one. "Yeah. 'What if the water you're swimming in isn't where you belong?'"

"Exactly." She looked around the kitchen, at everyone performing their version of cool. "Sometimes I feel like that goldfish. Like I'm supposed to be somewhere else, but everyone else seems fine with just... swimming in circles."

My phone buzzed. A text from my dad: 'Remember your water bottle! Stay hydrated!' I almost rolled my eyes, but then I thought about it. Water. Clarity. Maybe old people weren't completely clueless.

"You want to get out of here?" I heard myself say. Jordan looked up, surprised. "There's this park nearby. And I have vitamin water in my bag. My dad's obsessed."

She laughed, and it was the most genuine sound I'd heard all night. "Lead the way."

We slipped out the back door, leaving the spinach dip and the goldfish poster and all the people swimming in circles. The night air hit us—cool, crisp, like that first breath after being underwater too long. For the first time that evening, everything felt exactly right.