Goldfish & Lightning

Marcus stood at the edge of the **pool**, clutching his red solo cup like it was a lifeline. The **water** rippled with movement — bodies splashing, laughter echoing off the backyard fence. Everyone was there. Everyone except him, really. He was just the quiet kid who'd won a **goldfish** at the carnival last summer, the same goldfish that had lasted exactly three days before flushing itself into fishy heaven.

Nice knowing you, childhood.

"Marcus! Get in here!" Jake yelled, doing a cannonball that sent a wave sloshing over the deck. "The **water**'s actually decent for once!"

Marcus forced a smile. "Yeah, uh, maybe in a bit."

His phone buzzed. A text from Maya: *where r u?*

His stomach did that stupid fluttery thing it always did when she messaged him. Maya with her laugh that sounded like sunshine and actual conversations that didn't feel like pulling teeth. He typed and deleted three responses before settling on: *by the snacks. u?*

*omw don't move*— because apparently she was actually looking for him.

"You're not **swimming**?"

He jumped. Maya stood behind him, wet hair slicked back, droplets racing down her arms like she'd been dipped in glitter.

"Not really my vibe," Marcus admitted, then immediately regretted it. Smooth. Way to sound cool.

But she just shrugged. "Same. I only came because my mom said I need to 'put myself out there' more." She made air quotes and rolled her eyes. "Whatever that means."

They sat on the pool edge, feet dangling in the **water**, watching everyone else pretend to be having the time of their lives. Marcus's heart was doing something ridiculous — **swimming** laps in his chest, maybe — but for the first time all night, he didn't feel like the weird kid at the edge of everything.

Then the sky cracked open.

**Lightning** shattered the darkness, purple-white veins stitching through storm clouds. Someone screamed. Someone else yelled something unintelligible. Within seconds, the pool party became a dash for cover, towels flying, bodies scrambling toward the patio.

Marcus grabbed Maya's hand without thinking.

They sprinted through the rain, both of them laughing breathlessly, both of them soaked to the bone and somehow not caring at all. They dove under the patio overhang, pressed shoulder to shoulder, watching the storm tear the sky apart.

"That was actually kind of epic," Maya said, grinning at him.

**Lightning** flashed again, illuminating everything — her wet hair, her silly smile, the way she was looking at him like maybe, just maybe, he wasn't invisible after all.

His phone buzzed again. Mom: *how's the party?*

Marcus typed back one-handed, never looking away from Maya: *actually pretty great.*

The carnival goldfish might've been a flop. But this? This was definitely something real.