The Fox in the Corner

The bass from Maya's speakers shook the floorboards, or maybe that was just my anxiety. I stood by the refreshment table, nursing a flat soda like it was my job, feeling utterly out of place. Everyone else seemed to know exactly how to exist in this space—how to lean against walls, how to laugh at nothing, how to be people.

"Dude, your goldfish is literally giving me existential crises," someone announced behind me.

I turned to find Jordan watching Maya's fish bowl with intense concentration. The beta fish—definitely not a goldfish, but nobody seemed to care—swam in endless circles, its translucent fins trailing like ghost thoughts.

"It's not existential," I said, surprising myself. "It's just processing. Sometimes you need to swim the same loop fifty times before you figure out what comes next."

Jordan looked at me, really looked at me. "That's deep, though."

I shrugged. "I overthink things. It's a curse."

"Same." They nodded sagely. "I've been bear-camping in this corner all night because I don't know how to people properly."

"Bear-camping?"

"Like a bear claiming its territory. Except my territory is three square feet of awkwardness."

I laughed. It felt real. "I've been fox-ing around the refreshment table. Pretending to be busy, actually just waiting for someone to talk to me."

"A fox, though?" Jordan raised an eyebrow. "Foxes are slick. You seem more... like you're plotting something elaborate."

"Maybe I am. Maybe I'm plotting my escape."

"Or maybe," Jordan said, "you're plotting how to actually talk to people instead of just watching them."

"Caught me."

"Wanna give it a shot? Two awkward people attempting to socialize? We could be like, a support group for people who don't know how to party."

"Only if we can make fun of everyone else's dance moves."

"Obviously. That's the whole point."

The fish swam on, oblivious to how perfectly timed its circles had been. Somewhere behind us, someone laughed too loud at a joke that wasn't funny, and Maya's phone buzzed with texts she wouldn't answer. But for the first time all night, I wasn't watching from the outside. I was in it, awkward and real and figuring it out as I went.

"So," Jordan said. "You come here often?"

"I hate you."

"Success. I made the new friend laugh."

"Don't push it."

"Too late. I already texted my sister. She says you're officially my favorite person at this party."

"You texted your sister about me?"

"She needs to know I'm making progress. She's been on my case about 'putting myself out there.'"

"Well," I said. "You're definitely out here. In the corner. By the fish. With me."

"And it's honestly kind of perfect."