Goldfish & Lightning

The goldfish had survived three weeks, which was a personal best for Liam. His mom kept replacing them without comment, probably figuring teenage boys needed low-stakes opportunities to not fail at something.

Now it sat in its bowl on his nightstand, swimming in endless circles, while Liam lay on his bed doomscrolling through party photos he wasn't in. Again.

"You going to Jackson's tonight?" His sister leaned against his doorframe, already dressed like she was about to walk a runway. "Everyone's gonna be there."

"Nah. Got that thing."

"What thing?"

"You know. The thing."

She sighed, that long-suffering sibling sigh that said I'm not embarrassed for you, I'm embarrassed on behalf of the entire concept of you.

Liam waited until she left, then sat up. His chest felt tight, the way it always did before social stuff. Running track was easy—someone blew a whistle, you ran until your lungs burned, you stopped. But parties? Parties had no finish line. Just endless laps around the same conversations with the same people performing the same performances.

The goldfish bumped its nose against the glass.

"You feel me, Fish," Liam said.

He decided to go. Just show up, stay twenty minutes, leave before he said something weird. That was the plan.

He was halfway there when the sky ripped open.

Lightning turned the world strobe-light bright, then thunder shook the pavement under his sneakers. Rain came down like someone upended a bucket on the neighborhood. Within seconds he was soaked through, hoodie heavy, glasses useless.

He kept running.

Something opened up in his chest—maybe all that tightness finally had somewhere to go. His sneakers slapped wet asphalt, breath hitched, heart pounding, and suddenly he wasn't running to a party anymore. He was just running. Fast. Wild. Alive in a way he hadn't been in months.

The goldfish was probably still swimming its circles, but Liam? Liam was finally going somewhere. Even if he didn't know where that was.

He slowed to a stop under a store awning, chest heaving, rain dripping from his hair. His phone buzzed in his pocket—probably someone asking where he was.

He didn't answer. Just stood there catching his breath, feeling like he'd finally crossed some finish line he hadn't known existed.