The Fortune Teller's Goldfish

Maya's palms were sweating. Literally sweating — like, she could practically wring out her hands at this point. The summer carnival air hung thick with cotton candy sweetness and awkward teenage tension.

"Your phone's about to die," Chloe said, nodding at Maya's iPhone. The battery icon had turned that ominous red color, like a warning from the universe itself.

"Whatever," Maya lied. She'd been waiting to text Jason back for three hours. THREE. HOURS. The ratio was all wrong. "I'm living in the moment."

"You're living in denial," Chloe countered, then pointed. "Let's get our palms read. My cousin said this lady's actually legit."

The fortune teller's tent smelled like incense and desperate hopes. An elderly woman with crystal-blue eyes grabbed Maya's hand without asking.

"You're waiting for something," the woman said, tracing the lines on Maya's palm. "Someone. But you already have what you need right here." She pressed a gold coin into Maya's hand. "For the booth around the corner. Trust me."

Maya and Chloe exchanged glances. The "booth" turned out to be a ring toss game. Maya's second toss landed perfectly. The carny handed her a plastic bag with a single goldfish swimming in confused circles.

"A fish? Seriously?" Maya stared at it. "What am I supposed to do with this?"

Her iPhone chose that exact moment to die. Black screen. Nothing. No text from Jason. No Instagram. Just her, Chloe, a confused goldfish, and the overwhelming realization that she'd spent her entire night waiting for a guy who couldn't bother to respond.

"We name him Glitter," Chloe declared. "And we get him a proper tank. And then we get food, because I'm starving, and you're officially done waiting around for people who don't deserve your energy."

Something shifted in Maya's chest. Lighter. Better.

"Glitter it is," she agreed, clutching the bag like it was the most important thing in the world. "And Jason can wait forever."