Goldfish Memories at the Pool

The chlorine stung my eyes, but I stayed underwater anyway. Anything was better than watching Leo laugh at Sarah's jokes from the padel court. Three weeks into summer, and somehow I'd managed to become the person who volunteered to pet-sit everyone's animals while they had actual fun.

"Marcus!" My mom called from the deck. "Don't forget to feed the dog before we leave!"

I surfaced, gasping. Romeo, my aunt's golden retriever, was already dancing by the fence, tail thumping like crazy. Because of course I was dog-sitting too. The whole neighborhood knew I was available for "responsible tasks." The title was supposed to be flattering. Instead, it felt like I'd been branded the guy who'd never get a girlfriend, the one who'd literally bear the weight of everyone else's good times.

"I know, Mom!" I called back, slicking my hair back.

"Marcus, you good?" It was Tyler, Leo's friend, paddle in hand. "We need a fourth for padel. Sarah's tired, and you're actually decent."

Decent. The highest compliment.

"Can't," I said, treading water. "Romeo needs walking."

"Bro, bring the dog." Leo appeared behind Tyler, wiping sweat from his forehead. "We're playing at the courts near your house anyway. And my sister's goldfish died last week, so she's emotional. Need normal people around."

Goldfish. Of course.

"Fine," I said, trying to sound like I wasn't absolutely dying inside. "Let me grab a shirt."

"Sweet." Leo high-fived Tyler. "We'll beat you anyway."

"In your dreams!" I shouted back.

As I hauled myself out of the pool, water streaming everywhere, I caught Leo watching me. Just for a second. But he was watching.

Maybe being responsible didn't mean being invisible. Maybe it just meant you were the one who showed up. Even if you were wet, smelled like chlorine, and had a very excited golden retriever licking your face.

"Romeo," I said, grabbing his leash. "We've got a game to win."