Goldfish Theory of Everything

The pool party at Ashley's house was basically a social pyramid, and I was somewhere near the bottom—maybe the sediment layer. Ashley and her popular friends lounged on the inflatable flamingo at the deep end like royalty, while the rest of us splashed around in the shallow waters like peasants.

I hadn't even wanted to come, but Maya had insisted. "You're being so extra," she'd said. "Just live a little." So here I was, clinging to the pool edge like my life depended on it, trying to look chill while my brain was absolutely spiraling.

That's when I saw him. Tyler. The guy I'd been lowkey obsessed with since seventh period algebra emerged from the water, droplets running down his stupid perfect face. My stomach did that thing where it forgets how to stomach.

"Hey," he said, treading water next to me. "You good?"

"So good," I squeaked. "Never better. Living my best life."

Cool, Jordan. So cool.

He laughed, and I mentally high-fived myself. "You know that thing about goldfish?" he asked out of nowhere.

"What thing?"

"How people say they have three-second memories, but that's actually a myth? They remember stuff for months."

I stared at him. "That's your pickup line?"

He laughed again, louder this time. "No, I'm just saying. Everyone thinks they know everything about everything, but most of it's just vibes. Fake news." He dunked underwater briefly, then resurfaced, pushing wet hair off his forehead. "Like this party. Everyone thinks they have to be someone they're not. That's the real pyramid scheme, you know? Social climbing is exhausting."

Something about his tone shifted. The layers peeled back.

"I have a goldfish," I admitted. "His name is Bubbles. He's four years old and definitely remembers me feeding him late that one time. He's never let me live it down."

Tyler grinned. "See? Bubbles gets it." He looked at the pool deck where Ashley and her friends were taking selfies. "I'd rather hang out with you and Bubbles anyway."

The pool lights flickered on, turning the water into liquid evening. And for the first time all summer, I stopped clinging to the edge. I let myself float, weightless, watching the way the light danced across the surface. Maybe the pyramid wasn't so tall after all. Or maybe I'd just found someone willing to help me climb it.