Goldfish Wisdom

The carnival lights blurred against Maya's contacts as she stood before the purple velvet tent. Palm Readings — Your Destiny Revealed, the sign promised in glittering cursive.

"You're gonna do it?" Chloe asked, already holding a bag of cotton candy like it was a designer purse. "It's totally bogus, Maya."

"I know," Maya said, but she stepped inside anyway.

The fortune teller — Ms. Zora, according to the crystal nameplate — took Maya's hand and traced the lines on her **palm** with a manicured fingernail. "Hmm. Interesting. You're carrying something heavy."

"Just algebra," Maya joked weakly.

"No, this is..." Ms. Zora squinted. "You're vitamin deficient. Not like, medically. Spiritually. You need more vitamin BE. Be bold. Be brave. Be you."

Maya almost laughed. "That's the worst advice ever."

"Take the fish," Ms. Zora said, pointing to a small bowl on her table. Inside swam a single orange **goldfish** with leaves for a tail. "He needs a home. You need a reminder."

"You're literally giving me your fish?"

"The universe works in mysterious ways, child." She shooed Maya out with the fish bowl.

Three weeks later, Maya's room had become a shrine to Gus the Goldfish. She'd researched water temperature and pH balance like her life depended on it. Every morning, she sprinkled **vitamin**-enhanced flakes into his bowl, watching him surface, mouth opening and closing like he had something profound to say.

"Hey Gus," she'd whisper, pressing her own palm against the glass. "You'd think I'd have this figured out by sixteen, right?"

Her phone buzzed. *Group hang at Jake's tonight! Everyone's going. You coming? - Chloe*

Jake, the guy who sat behind her in history and always smelled like cinnamon gum. Jake, who'd complimented her presentation on the Industrial Revolution like he actually meant it.

Maya stared at the goldfish. Gus did a little flip, fins shimmering in the LED tank light she'd bought with birthday money.

"Vitamin BE," she muttered. "Be bold. Be brave."

Her fingers hovered over her phone. *I'll be there,* she typed. Then added a winking emoji because that's what confident people did, right?

By midnight, she was sitting on Jake's back patio, listening to someone play an acoustic guitar and watching the steam rise from three different pizzas. She'd actually said three full sentences to Jake without stuttering. He'd laughed at her jokes. She'd laughed at his.

When she got home, Gus was still there, doing his slow circles in the illuminated water.

"I did it," she whispered, pressing her palm against the cool glass. "I was actually... me."

The goldfish swam to the surface, mouth opening and closing.

"I know," Maya smiled. "Pretty wild, right?"