Poolside Zombies and Goldfish Funerals

I felt like a **zombie**—not the cool Netflix kind, but the actual living dead kind, thanks to staying up until 3 AM watching Tyler play Call of Duty with his "squad." My under-eye bags had bags.

Now I was at Jessica's pool party, because apparently social suicide wasn't in my vocabulary today. Jessica, whose Instagram stories were basically a masterclass in curated perfection, was currently holding court on the diving board like she owned everything below the water line.

"You coming in or what?" someone yelled. It was Marcus, who I'd had a crush on since seventh grade, back when I still thought side bangs were a personality trait.

"In a minute," I called back, lying through my teeth. I'd rather die than put my body on display in that **pool**. I'd seen what happened to girls who weren't size 2 in bikinis. The internet was undefeated.

A screech interrupted my spiral. Jessica's demon cat, Lucifer—a tabby with anger issues—had cornered someone's pet **goldfish** in a bowl on the patio table. The poor orange thing was doing laps, clearly reconsidering all its life choices.

"Oh my GOD, Jessica," someone shrieked. "Your cat is literally traumatizing him."

"He's just playing," Jessica said, like this was normal. "Maybe he wants to swim too."

I found myself standing up. "Actually, that's straight-up **bull**." The words fell out before I could stuff them back in. Everyone stared. Lucifer hissed. The goldfish kept swimming, oblivious to its role in my potential demise.

"Excuse me?" Jessica's voice could've frozen lava.

"You're literally tormenting a fish for entertainment." My voice shook but I kept going. "That's messed up."

Marcus slid off the diving board. "Actually, she's right. That's kind of psychotic behavior, Jessica."

Something shifted. Other people nodded. The girl who'd brought the goldfish—what was her name, Maya?—mouthed "thank you." I moved the bowl to safety, Lucifer flicked his tail, and suddenly I wasn't the quiet girl who existed only as background texture.

Later, Marcus found me by the snacks. "That was pretty brave," he said. "Jessica's gonna make your life hell, though."

"Worth it," I said, and realized I meant it. Some things were worth the drama.

The goldfish survived. My social status? TBD. But for the first time, I didn't feel like a zombie anymore. I felt awake.