Goldfish Memory, Zombie Heart

Maya's first week at Northwood High felt like a Goldfish memory — every morning she woke up wondering whose life she was living now. The hallways stretched forever, packed with students who all seemed to know exactly who they were, while she was still figuring out if she was theater-kid Maya or soccer-player Maya or just invisible Maya.

"You okay?" Liam asked during biology, sliding over next to her. He had these kind eyes that made her stomach do weird flip things. "You look like you haven't slept since the zombie apocalypse started."

"Funny," Maya said, though her lips barely moved. "More like I've been bearing witness to my own social death since Tuesday."

Liam laughed, and something unclenched in her chest.

That Friday, Maya's dad finally let her adopt a dog from the shelter. She named him Bear because he was massive and gentle and had survived things she couldn't imagine. Walking Bear became her excuse to escape the house, escape the expectations, escape the version of Maya she was supposed to be.

One night Bear bolted after a squirrel, dragging Maya through the woods behind the old middle school. She tripped over something gold and shiny — a tiny metal goldfish necklace, half-buried in mud. As she picked it up, her phone buzzed. Party at Jake's. Everyone going. YOU coming?

Maya stood there, holding this lost thing, Bear finally calm beside her. The old Maya would've said yes because that's what you did. The new Maya — the one who'd spent the past week walking Bear, learning that sometimes the bravest thing was just being yourself — texted back: nah. got plans.

She didn't know if those plans involved anything real, but they involved her own decisions for once. Bear nudged her hand, and she smiled. Maybe freshman year wouldn't be so bad after all. Maybe she'd even figure out who she actually was, instead of just who everyone expected her to be.