Sweaty Palms & Carnival Goldfish

Jax's palms were sweating. Again. He wiped them on his jeans, leaving dark streaks on the denim, because apparently his body had decided nervous sweating was his personality now.

"You coming to padel today?" Maya asked, leaning against his locker like she belonged there. Which she kind of did, considering she'd basically taken over his life since freshman year started.

Padel. The sport everyone was suddenly obsessed with. Jax had tried it once last week and spent the entire time missing the ball and checking if anyone was laughing at him. (They weren't. Probably.)

"Yeah," he said, trying to sound casual. "Just gotta grab something from my locker first."

The truth was, he couldn't stop thinking about what had happened at lunch. The cool table—lead by Tyler, whose family literally owned half the real estate in town—had been talking about their summer plans. Someone mentioned how they were all "boosting" with these special vitamins Tyler's brother got them. Just little supplements that gave you energy, helped you focus, made you sharper.

Jax had just stared at his tray, suddenly hyper-aware of the sad little goldfish prize he'd won at the carnival last night swimming in its bag on his bedside table at home. He'd named it Fernando, because why not. Fernando was probably the most loyal friend he had right now.

"You okay?" Maya was looking at him weirdly.

"Fine," Jax said. "Just... tired."

Her eyes softened. "You know you don't have to do everything they do, right?"

He looked at her, really looked at her. Maya with her paint-stained fingers and her hair that defied gravity and her complete inability to care what anyone thought.

"I know," he said, and realized he meant it.

His phone buzzed. A text from his mom: Fernando died. Sorry honey. So sorry.

Jax stared at it, and then he started laughing. Not the fake laugh he used when Tyler made a joke he didn't understand, but real laughter. Maya looked at him like he'd lost it, but then she was laughing too, and neither of them knew why, but it didn't matter.

"Forget padel," Jax said, grabbing his skateboard from his locker. "Let's go get you ice cream instead."

"About time," Maya grinned, falling into step beside him. "And Jax?"

"Yeah?"

"Your hands are sweating again."

"Shut up."

But she didn't, and neither did he, and maybe that was okay. Maybe some things—like goldfish and cool kids and trying too hard—were meant to be temporary anyway.