Operation Goldfish

The first day of sophomore year, and I'm already assigned a goldfish. Not the literal kind with googly eyes and a bowl, but Jordan - the designated freshman buddy I have to mentor because I volunteered for service hours I never needed.

Jordan's clutching a nervous orange, peeling it in tiny strips while staring at the seniors gathered under the palm tree by the cafeteria like they're celebrities.

"That's Olivia's squad," Jordan whispers. "My cousin says they're secretly running a TikTok account that exposes people's secrets."

I laugh. "That's a rumor. Nobody's actually spying on people."

But then I notice something weird. Olivia keeps glancing at her phone and typing furiously, then looking around like she's checking for witnesses. My dog Buster, who I'd snuck onto campus because Mom had an emergency shift, starts growling at a hedge near the palm trees.

"What is it, buddy?" I ask, but Buster's already bolted toward the bushes.

"He's onto something," Jordan says, abandoning the orange peels.

We creep after Buster and find Olivia crouched behind the hedge, recording... a squirrel hoarding acorns? No, wait. She's recording the SENIOR SPY - an anonymous account that actually DOES exist, and she's exposing the person behind it.

"Wait," Jordan whispers. "She's not the spy. She's hunting the spy."

Olivia spots us and waves us over. "You're Leo's sister, right? Your dog just saved my investigation."

Turns out, the senior spy was some dude catfishing people for clout. Olivia needed evidence to expose him.

"You're like, actually cool," Jordan says, eyes wide.

Olivia shrugs. "Being fake is exhausting. Want help with that orange peel? Jordan, right?"

As we sit under the palm tree, Buster zonked out on my backpack, I realize high school isn't about figuring out who's cool or who's spying on who. It's about finding people who peel oranges with the same nervous energy you have.