Goldfish & Static

The goldfish crunched between my teeth, tasteless and sharp, just like everything else about Jordan's party. I was seventeen, socially awkward, and somehow still ended up squeezed onto a leather couch between two strangers blasting rap through speakers that cost more than my car.

"You good?" Jordan asked, passing me a Solo cup. I nodded, lying through my teeth. My phone buzzed in my pocket - Mom, probably wondering why I hadn't texted in three hours. Dad would be working the night shift, splicing cables for the internet company, fixing everyone else's connection while ours stayed frayed beyond repair.

That's when Bear lumbered into the room. Okay, his real name was Brian, but everyone called him Bear because he was literally huge - a linebacker with shoulders like boulders and a laugh that shook the walls. He'd been my lab partner freshman year, back when I was brace-faced and he was still growing into his frame.

"Yo, Maya!" Bear dropped onto the armrest, making me bounce. "Haven't seen you since... damn, since chemistry? You good?"

Something in his voice - genuine, unforced - made my chest tighten. "Yeah. Just... you know. Stuff."

He nodded like that explained everything. Parents splitting. Friends drifting away. The weird limbo of senior year when everyone pretended to have it figured out. "My parents split last month," Bear said quietly. "It's trash. But you get through."

We ended up on the back porch, sharing his vape and talking about nothing and everything. I told him about the goldfish I'd won at the carnival when I was seven, how it died after three days and I cried for a week. He told me about his little sister who wouldn't speak to their dad anymore. Under the porch light, Bear didn't seem so intimidating anymore - just another kid trying to navigate the wreckage.

When he walked me to my car at midnight, the air finally felt breathable. "Same time next week?" he asked, almost shy.

"Yeah," I said, and meant it.

Driving home, I passed the cable truck parked in front of our apartment building - Dad's company. For the first time in months, I didn't feel like my life was completely disconnected.