Goldfish Summer

Maya's iPhone buzzed against her nightstand at 2 AM — again. Another TikTok notification. Another reminder that everyone else's summer was somehow more electric, more neon, more *real* than hers.

She'd been housesitting for Mrs. Chen all week, which basically meant watching her cat avoid her and feeding a goldfish that had more personality than half the people at her school. The cat, a judgmental calico named Mochi, spent most days giving Maya side-eye from atop the refrigerator.

"You're literally judging me right now," Maya told Mochi, dangling a piece of string. "I can feel it."

Mochi blinked slowly.

The goldfish — whose name Maya kept forgetting because Mrs. Chen called it something different every time (Bubbles? Goldie? Mr. Swims?) — stared at her through the glass with those wide, unblinking eyes. Sometimes Maya felt like that fish, just swimming in circles in her tiny bowl while everyone else was out there living their best lives.

Her phone dinged. *Pool party @ Jake's tonight. Everyone's going. U coming?*

Maya stared at the screen. She didn't really *know* Jake, but apparently everyone knew Jake. That was the problem with sophomore year — you were either *in* or you were watching from the sidelines, refreshing social media like it was your job.

*sure!* she typed back, then immediately wanted to throw her phone into the goldfish bowl.

Two hours later, she stood by Jake's pool, clutching a plastic cup of something that was definitely just fruit punch, while people who looked like they stepped out of a skincare ad laughed about inside jokes she didn't understand. The water reflected string lights, turning the pool into something magical and terrifying.

"Hey!" Someone shouted. "Chicken fight!"

Before Maya could retreat to the safety of the snack table, she was being pulled toward the water.

*This is fine,* she thought, climbing onto some guy's shoulders. *I'm totally fine.*

They won. Maya actually laughed, surprised by her own voice. Then she saw it — her iPhone, sliding out of her back pocket, sinking into the chlorinated depths like a tiny, expensive submarine.

"No!" she scrambled, splashing into the water, fully clothed, grabbing at the water like she could reverse time.

Everything stopped. Everyone stared. And then —

Then someone jumped in after her. Then someone else.

"iPhone rescue mission!" someone yelled, and suddenly the water was full of people, laughing and diving and making this terrible, embarrassing moment into something else entirely.

Later, wet and shivering and clutching her dead phone, Maya sat on the pool edge with people who'd been strangers that morning.

"That phone was definitely cooked," Jake said, handing her a towel. "But hey, you're coming next week, right?"

Maya looked at the water, now calm again. She thought about Mr. Swims swimming in his endless circles. Maybe that wasn't so bad — eventually, you had to break out of the bowl. Even if it meant your iPhone died in the process.

"Yeah," she said, actually meaning it. "I'm coming."

When she got back to Mrs. Chen's, Mochi actually let her pet her. The goldfish swam to the front of the bowl, wide-eyed and expectant.

"Don't look at me like that," Maya whispered, feeding him an extra pinch of food. "I survived tonight. You could at least act impressed."