The Goldfish at the Top of the Pyramid

My mom pressed the gummy **vitamin** into my palm before I left, like it was some kind of emotional armor. 'For stress, mija,' she said, giving me that look that said she knew exactly how terrified I was about Jordan's party.

I shoved the vitamins into my clutch anyway.

The house was already vibrating when I arrived. Bodies everywhere, a literal **pyramid** of red solo cups on the kitchen counter (which, rude, whose nice cups were those?), and Jordan holding court in the living room like she was the queen of an ancient civilization and we were all just peasants paying tribute.

I headed straight for the backyard because *fresh air*, *people*, *help*. That's when I saw him—Caleb Flores, leaning against the patio railing, looking like he'd rather be literally anywhere else. Caleb, who'd moved here in October and still sat alone at lunch sometimes. Caleb with the nice hands and the quiet voice in English class.

'This party is... a lot,' he said, like he'd read my mind.

'I was literally just thinking that,' I said, and we stood there in comfortable silence for approximately three seconds before we both started laughing.

'Thanks for the laugh,' I said, trying to flirt but probably failing.

'Anytime,' he said, and our eyes caught and held. My palms started sweating. Actual teenage sweating, how embarrassing.

And that's when we saw it—a tiny **goldfish** bowl sitting on the patio table, completely abandoned, with one lonely fish doing laps.

'Who leaves a living creature at a party?' Caleb asked, genuinely concerned.

'That fish has a better social life than I do,' I muttered, and then immediately regretted it because *Caleb Flores* was looking at me with this soft expression.

'You have a better social life than that fish,' he said. 'Trust me.'

We took turns feeding the goldfish crumbled chips from the snack bowl. We talked about everything—how Jordan's pyramid scheme of popularity was exhausting, how we both hated the performative energy of high school, how weird it was that we'd never talked before.

At some point, I ate my mom's vitamin because *why not*, and Caleb laughed so hard he almost knocked over the fish bowl.

'Save Fishy!' I yelled, and we both grabbed for it at the same time, our hands colliding, and something sparked—actual electricity, I'm not being dramatic.

'Thank you for this,' he said, looking at me with eyes that were doing things to my heart rate. 'For the best part of the night.'

'Me too,' I whispered.

We ended up back inside, but together. Jordan's pyramid didn't matter anymore. I had my vitamins, my new fish friend, and Caleb's number in my phone.

Sometimes the best moments aren't at the top of the pyramid—they're the ones you never saw coming.