Goldfish Memory

I floated through sophomore year like a goldfish in a bowl — going in circles, forgetting everything every seven seconds, wondering if the glass was keeping me safe or just trapping me in plain view.

"You coming to padel tonight?" Liam asked, and I swear my heart did that thing where it forgets how to beat normally.

Padel. The sport where you hit a ball with short rackets inside a glass cage. Metal container, trapping everyone inside. Not subtle at all.

"Yeah," I said, trying to sound casual instead of like I'd been practicing my serve against the garage wall since he'd invited me yesterday. "For sure."

"Cool."

He walked away, and I immediately pulled out my iPhone to text Aria: HE ACTUALLY INVITED ME. ARIA. PADEL. WITH LIAM.

My thumbs hovered over the screen. Did I sound too desperate? Should I add a lol? Wait, was Aria even at lunch?

I opened Instagram instead. Seven stories from the party Friday night that I hadn't gone to. Everyone looked so shiny and perfect, while I'd been home watching Netflix with my mom.

Maybe I should have gone. Maybe that's why I felt like I was always on the outside, looking in.

My phone buzzed. Aria: OMGGG finally!! He's been eyeing you all week.

Had he?

I spent the next three hours getting ready. Hair. Makeup. Three outfit changes. My room looked like a tornado had hit it.

"You look nice," Mom said from the doorway. "Big plans?"

"Just padel."

She raised an eyebrow. "With Liam?"

I nodded.

She smiled this tiny knowing smile. "Have fun. But listen, Maya?" She stepped into my messy room. "You don't have to perform for anyone. The right people will like you for who you actually are."

What if who I actually was was just awkward?

At the courts, Liam was already there, stretching. His shorts were too long and his laugh was too loud and suddenly my throat felt tight.

"You made it!" He waved me over like I belonged there.

And the weird thing was, once we started playing, I didn't feel like a goldfish anymore. I didn't feel like I was floating aimlessly in circles, watching life happen from behind glass.

I felt solid. Real.

"You're actually really good," Liam said after I nailed a serve down the line.

"I've been practicing," I admitted.

"Against the garage?" He grinned.

My face burned. "How did you —"

"I saw you. From my window." He shrugged like it was nothing. "It was kind of adorable, actually."

Adorable.

My phone buzzed in my bag, but I didn't check it.

Some things were better than a screen.