Operation Goldfish

Maya pressed her back against the gym lockers, clutching her phone like it was a nuclear launch code. Three feet away, Jake—the absolute love of her freshmen year—was laughing with Chloe about something that was probably hilarious and definitely not about her.

"You're being dramatic," her actual best friend, Priya, whispered from behind a row of coats. "It's not that deep."

"Priya, I've been literally stalking his Instagram since September. I have unprecedented reconnaissance. That makes me a spy, right?" Maya adjusted her glasses for the fifteenth time. "Or just a creep?"

"Both. Valid both ways."

Maya's dad had started giving her these gummy vitamin things that were supposed to help with "stress and focus," which honestly felt like a subtle message about her entire personality. She'd popped two before first period, which might be why she was currently hiding in the coat room during lunch instead of eating.

At home, her pet goldfish Harambe swam in endless circles, living his best fish life, completely unaware that his owner was having a full-on existential crisis. Sometimes she stared at him and felt like they were the same—just going through motions, trapped in a bowl that was way too small.

"So..." Priya nudged her. "You gonna talk to him or what?"

"I literally cannot."

"Maya."

"Priya."

"Maya, you're lowkey torturing yourself over a guy whose personality consists of 'likes basketball' and 'owns hoodies.'"

"Those are valid qualities!"

"You deserve better than 'exists and wears cotton.'"

The bell rang, saving Maya from having to respond to that straight facts burn. But as she grabbed her bag, her phone buzzed.

unknown number: hey this is jake. priya gave me your number. wanted to ask if you wanted to study for history together?

Maya stared at her screen, her heart doing this full-on gymnastics routine.

"Wait," she said to Priya. "Did you—"

"I have my ways," Priya grinned. "Being a good friend means enabling your crushes sometimes."

"But what if I say something weird? What if I'm not—"

"Maya." Priya's voice got serious for once. "You're not a spy watching from the outside. You're the main character. Act like it."

So Maya typed back. Her hands were shaking, but she pressed send anyway.

And somewhere in the back of her mind, she made a mental note to thank her goldfish for the emotional support, her vitamins for the stress-management assist, and her friend for not letting her stay in her safe little fishbowl forever.