Static

The coax cable hat was a mistake. Obviously. But Maya dared me, and at sixteen, dignity is a currency you spend fast when you want someone to notice you.

"You look like a disgraced cable guy," said Leo, which was rich coming from someone wearing a beanie in July.

The party was already roaring when we arrived. My stomach did that thing where it forgets how to stomach. I'd spent the entire summer watching Leo from across the cafeteria while he watched Maya, and somehow I was the third wheel on my own social anxiety.

Then I saw it. A bowl on the counter. One goldfish, swimming in circles like it knew exactly how trapped we all were.

"That's Kevin," some senior said, appearing beside me. "Won him at the carnival. No idea what to do with him."

"Same," I said, because my brain had stopped working.

Outside, Leo had found a dog. A stray. The kind of mangy, heartbreakingly hopeful creature that makes you believe in redemption narratives. They were sitting on the porch, Leo feeding it chips from his pocket like they'd known each other for years.

"This is Barnaby," he said. "We're keeping him."

"Your mom's allergic."

"We'll hide him in my room. Like, emotionally. He'll be an emotional support dog."

The goldfish bowl was suddenly in my hand. Maya was laughing at something someone said, head thrown back, hair everywhere. Leo was scratching Barnaby behind the ears, both of them looking like they'd just invented the concept of peace.

I reached into my pocket and found the vitamin my mom had shoved at me before I left. "For strength," she'd said. I swallowed it dry, standing there with a cable hat on my head, a fish in my hands, and a crush on my best friend who was falling in love with someone who didn't see him at all.

"You want Kevin?" the senior asked.

"Yes," I said. "Absolutely."

Barnaby licked Leo's face. Leo laughed, really laughed, and for a second it was just the three of us — me, the fish, and the boy who was already leaving, even though neither of us had gone anywhere.

Some endings happen before you realize they've begun. But goldfish are resilient. And so are we.