Goldfish Summer

The pool party at Bryce's house was basically social suicide, but Maya showed up anyway. Finals had turned her into a total zombie—dead inside, surviving on caffeine and Spotify playlists—but her best friend Kenya dragged her out of the house.

"You need this," Kenya insisted, adjusting the strap of her bikini top. "Live a little."

Maya stood awkwardly by the deep end, clutching a red Solo cup like it was a lifeline. That's when she saw Bryce's prize possession: a massive aquarium in the corner of the patio, filled with fancy goldfish. The biggest one—a spectacular orange fantail—kept staring at her.

"His name is Bull," said a voice behind her.

Maya jumped and almost spilled her drink. Bryce. The actual Bryce, who she'd had a crush on since seventh grade, was standing there in swim trunks, dripping wet from the pool. Water droplets glistened on his chest.

"The fish," he clarified, nodding at the aquarium. "He's a total bully. Eats everyone's food. Kind of legendary, honestly."

"Oh," Maya managed. "Cool. Weird name for a goldfish, but... cool."

Bryce laughed, and it was better than she'd imagined. "Yeah, my little sister named him. She's obsessed with those shark documentaries, thinks everything's a predator."

An awkward silence stretched between them, but not the bad kind. The kind where maybe something could happen.

"You swimming?" he asked.

Maya looked at the pool, where half their grade was splash-fighting and screaming. Her palms got sweaty just thinking about it. "I'm not really... I mean, I can, but I don't—"

"Come on." Bryce grabbed her hand. "I'll show you the shallow end. Less chaotic."

And suddenly she was underwater, chlorine stinging her eyes, Bryce's hand warm in hers, and maybe—just maybe—this summer wouldn't be so bad after all. The zombie was dead. Long break, the goldfish summer.