Operation: Goldfish

Monday morning hit like a freight train, and honestly? I was pretty sure I was operating on three percent battery. My mom stood at the counter, slamming a bright orange **vitamin** supplement onto my math textbook.

"You look like a walking **zombie**, Maya. Take this. It's got iron and B12 and actual magical properties."

"Mom, I'm fine. Just tired from the game yesterday." I grabbed the pill and pocketed it, because arguing took more energy than I possessed.

At school, Alex caught my eye from across the cafeteria and I immediately studied the gross-looking **spinach** stuck in my teeth like it was the most fascinating thing I'd ever seen. We'd been flirting for weeks — or at least I thought we had? But ever since that awkward almost-moment at Taylor's party, I'd been stuck in overthinking mode.

"You're being a weirdo again," said Jordan, sliding into the seat opposite me. "Just talk to him. Or don't. But stop acting like you're on some secret **spy** mission every time he walks by."

"I am NOT on a spy mission. I'm strategically avoiding awkwardness. There's a difference."

"You literally flinched when he waved at you just now."

"That was — that was a muscle spasm. From the volleyball game. Obviously."

Jordan rolled their eyes so hard I'm surprised they didn't see their own brain. Meanwhile, my phone buzzed. A text from Alex: *hey, my **goldfish** died. you good to talk?*

I stared at it. What kind of tragedy text was that? Was this a metaphor? Was his goldfish actually okay and this was code for something? Was I being summoned to a funeral?

"He says his goldfish died," I whispered.

"Oh my god, Maya. Just GO OVER THERE."

So I did. And Alex looked so genuinely sad about his fish that I felt terrible for overthinking everything. We ended up sitting together for twenty minutes, talking about death and pets and how weird it is that living things just... stop living.

"His name was Bubbles," Alex said. "I know, original. But he was there when my parents split up, you know? He was just... always swimming around. Being a fish."

"I'm sorry," I said, and I meant it.

"Thanks." He looked at me. "Hey, you coming to Chloe's thing on Friday?"

"Wouldn't miss it."

Sometimes the universe gives you a sign. Sometimes it's just a dead goldfish and a moment that's messy and real and not perfect at all. And honestly? That's better than perfect any day.