The Goldfish Confession

Maya's reflection showed the casualties of puberty: frizzy **hair** that refused to be tamed, braces that glinted like medieval torture devices, and enough insecurity to fill a swimming pool. The winter formal was in three hours, and she was seriously considering feigning a sudden illness.

Her pet **goldfish**, Einstein, swam to the front of his bowl and stared at her with what she swore was judgment. He'd witnessed her failed attempt at curling her hair, the spinach salad incident where she'd spent twenty minutes picking green bits from her teeth, and now this — her trying on different **hat**s because she couldn't deal with her hair anymore.

"You're lucky, Einstein," she muttered. "Nobody expects you to look flawless."

Her phone buzzed. Jordan, the guy she'd been crushing on since seventh grade, had actually texted her first. *Wear that green dress. You looked amazing in it at homecoming.*

Maya's stomach did somersaults. Jordan had noticed her?

She ditched the hats, let her hair do its natural frizz thing (maybe it was beachy waves instead of messy?), and slipped into the green dress. The one that matched the spinach incident salad. Perfect.

When Jordan picked her up, his eyes went wide. "Wow. You look... wow."

Maya smiled, and for the first time in forever, she didn't automatically cover her mouth.

The dance was everything and nothing like she expected. They played terrible music. Someone spilled punch on the DJ booth. Jordan had two left feet and stepped on her toes three times. But when they slow-danced to some sappy ballad, Maya realized something important: nobody was staring at her frizz or analyzing her outfit. Everyone was too busy worrying about themselves.

Einstein was still swimming in circles when she got home, but Maya felt different. The mirror showed the same face, same hair, same braces. But the girl looking back didn't want to hide under a hat anymore.

She dropped a fish food flake into the bowl. "For the record," she told Einstein, "spinach in teeth is way better than never smiling at all."