Market Crash at Midnight

The screen glowed in the darkness of my room, my iPhone the only witness to my spiraling anxiety. Crypto Trading Simulator 2024 — eighth grade's newest obsession. Everyone was playing, even though half of us didn't understand the difference between Bitcoin and Atari tokens.

"You're still bull on MemeCoin?" Mia's text flashed. "The whole market's about to bear down hard."

I didn't care about bear markets or bull rallies. I cared that Mia noticed me.

Our middle school had transformed into a miniature Wall Street. Kids walked around chanting "to the moon" in the halls. The popular table at lunch debated candlestick patterns instead of which teams would win homecoming. I'd gone all-in on some ridiculous token called WatermelonDoge just because Marcus said it would "triple by Friday." (Spoiler: it didn't. It crashed. Hard.)

The real drama happened at Jordan's pool party that Friday. The perfect social event — Jordan's parents were rich, the pool was heated, and everyone who was anyone would be there. I spent three hours deciding between two swim trunks. Pathetic, I know.

I arrived, phone clutched in my hand like a lifeline. MemeCoin was down 12% and climbing. Then I saw Mia.

She was sitting on the pool edge, legs dangling in the water, hair wet from a recent swim. Everything about her was effortless — she didn't obsess over market trends or whether her swim trunks matched the patio furniture.

"Hey, crypto king," she called. "Still underwater?"

My face burned. "The market's volatile."

"Everything's volatile." She patted the space beside her. "Sit. The water's perfect."

I hesitated, then sat. The pool water was cool against my legs, calming somehow. Mia looked at me, really looked at me, not through the filter of who was popular or who wasn't.

"You know what I learned?" she said quietly. "My dad says the people who make real money aren't the ones chasing trends. They're the ones who figure out what they actually believe in, and stick with it."

The bull and bear chatter, the constant checking, the anxiety — suddenly it all seemed exhausting. I looked at my iPhone, the Crypto Simulator app still open. Then I set it on the concrete, six feet from the water's edge.

"My dad's full of it sometimes," Mia added, splashing water at me. "But he's right about that."

I laughed, wiping water from my face. For the first time in weeks, I didn't check my portfolio.

"Hey," she said, her voice soft. "Wanna race?"

"You're on."

Later, I reached for my phone to check on MemeCoin. Instead, I opened a new message thread.

"Wanna hang out tomorrow? No crypto. No trends. Just... hang out."

Three dots appeared. Then: "I was hoping you'd ask."

Some things are worth investing in after all.