The Goldfish Gospel

Maya's brother was hosting a rager—the kind with a **pool** that smelled like chlorine and questionable decisions. She sat on the deck chair, scrolling through her phone while everyone pretended to be having the time of their lives.

"Hey, you're Lena's sister, right?" Some guy in a backwards **baseball** cap appeared out of nowhere. Cute, in a trying-too-hard way. "I'm Jax."

"Maya," she said, because apparently her social battery was functional enough for basic introductions.

He sat down. "So what's your deal? You look like you're mentally drafting your will."

Maya laughed despite herself. "Bold observation. I'm just vibing, honestly. This isn't exactly my scene."

"Same. I'm only here because my friend Sam keeps trying to shoot his shot with Lena." Jax pointed toward the shallow end, where Sam was indeed failing spectacularly. "Bro's been talking about her for weeks. It's painful to watch."

"The struggle is real," Maya deadpanned.

"Exactly." Jax leaned in conspiratorially. "Speaking of struggles, you ever swallow a **goldfish** on a dare?"

Maya stared at him. "That's oddly specific. Also, no?"

"Freshman year. Me and my friends were spiritually unsound." He shook his head. "That's not even the weirdest part. We were watching this show on **cable** at 2 AM—like, those weird infomercial channels where they sell knives and emotional breakdown products—and somehow we ended up at a pet store."

"You're actually unhinged."

"Story of my life." Jax grinned, and Maya felt something annoying happen in her chest. "So what's your story? Besides avoiding social interaction like it owes you money."

She hesitated. Drama kid. Theater geek. The person who quoted musicals unironically. None of it sounded cool out loud.

"I'm... figuring it out," she said instead.

"Respectable." Jax nodded like she'd dropped wisdom. "You know what my grandma calls me?"

Maya raised an eyebrow.

"'Sly as a **fox**,'" he said, doing air quotes. "She's Filipino, she thinks it's a compliment. I'm just really good at not doing my chores without getting caught."

Maya laughed—a real one this time. "You're actually kind of funny."

"Kind of? I'll take it." His phone buzzed. "Ugh, Sam's bailing. He got curveballed so hard he's emotionally damaged."

"That was fast."

"Twenty minutes," Jax confirmed. "A new record." He stood up. "Hey, you wanna get out of here? There's this boba place down the street—"

"Yes," Maya said, before she could overthink it.

They walked out past the pool, past the party that wasn't really theirs anyway. And for the first time all night, Maya felt exactly where she was supposed to be.