The Goldfish Code

Maya's palms were sweating — like, actually dripping — as she stood in Chloe Davidson's bathroom, staring at her reflection in the mirror. The party downstairs thumped against the floorboards, bass vibrating through her Converse.

"You got this," she whispered, then popped a strawberry gummy **vitamin** from her pocket. Chloe's older brother had offered her a shot five minutes ago, and Maya had panicked. These gummies were her go-to excuse — 'actually, I just took my vitamins, mixing is bad for you, right?' Lame, but it worked.

She washed her hands, trying to stop the shaking, when she noticed it: a tiny **goldfish** bowl on the counter, alone in the corner. The fish inside was barely moving, its scales dull.

"Oh my god, you found him."

Maya jumped. Chloe stood in the doorway, looking devastatingly perfect in her crop top and somehow still maintaining that effortless cool-girl vibe. But her expression was panicked.

"Please don't tell anyone," Chloe said, rushing over. "That's my brother's carnival goldfish from last summer. It was supposed to die, like, immediately. But it WON'T."

Maya blinked. "You're hiding it?"

"If my mom finds out I kept it alive by accident, she'll think I'm responsible and buy me a dog. I cannot deal with that energy." Chloe peered into the bowl. "Honestly? He's my little bro. We're both just surviving this house."

Something shifted in Maya's chest. The popular girl wasn't perfect — she was just winging it, like everyone else.

"My mom literally gives me these gummy vitamins because she thinks I have a deficiency," Maya found herself saying. "I take them at parties so people won't ask why I'm not drinking."

Chloe stared at her, then cracked up. "Wait, that's actually iconic. I thought you were, like, super confident."

"My palms are literally sweating right now."

"Same." Chloe held out her hand — her **palm** was damp too. "Wanna help me feed this little guy before he dies on my watch and I have to fake a funeral?"

Maya smiled, the knot in her stomach loosening. "Absolutely."

Downstairs, the party kept thumping. But up here, Maya had found something better than fitting in — she'd found someone who didn't have it figured out either.