Goldfish Summer

The carnival goldfish swam in its plastic bag like it knew its days were numbered. I'd won it throwing ping-pong balls into cups, which was honestly the most impressive thing I'd done all summer.

"You're not seriously keeping that," Marcus said, kicking at my sneakers. We were sitting on the curb outside 7-Eleven, sharing a Slurpee that was melting way too fast.

"Why not? His name is Bubbles."

"That's a dog's name, bro. You're mixing up your pets." Marcus laughed, but it was that weird laugh he did when he was actually judging you.

The truth was, I didn't even want a goldfish. But winning it felt like the first time all summer I hadn't failed at something. School had been a whole saga—grades slipping, friends drifting, that whole awkward phase where you're supposed to know who you are but you're just guessing.

That night, Jenna's pool party. The one everyone was going to. I showed up with Bubbles in his bag like a total loser, but whatever.

The backyard was already chaos. People cannonballing into the water, music bumping, that electric feeling of summer nights where anything could happen. Jenna spotted me near the snack table, holding my fish bag like a baby.

"Is that... a goldfish?" She was wearing this swimsuit that made me realize exactly why I'd had a crush on her since seventh grade.

"His name is Bubbles."

She cracked up. Not mean laughing, but the kind where you're laughing with someone, not at them. "You're so random. I love it."

Marcus was already in the pool, surrounded by his cool friends, being the person he always was around them. Loud. Confident. Not questioning everything like I did.

Later, I found Jenna sitting on the pool edge, her feet in the water. The party had moved inside, but we stayed out there, watching the ripples.

"You okay?" she asked.

I shrugged. "Just... sometimes I feel like I'm bearing witness to everyone else's life instead of actually living one."

"That's the most deep thing you've ever said." She splashed water at me. "For real though, you're good people. Marcus tries too hard. You're just... you."

The goldfish bag sat between us. Bubbles doing laps.

"Be my friend," I said, before I could overthink it.

She smiled. "I think I already am."

We sat there while the party raged inside, while the goldfish swam in circles, while the water reflected the patio lights. For the first time all summer, I didn't feel like I was failing at being sixteen.