The Goldfish in the Room

Alex stared at the coaxial cable dangling from his wall like a dead snake. His mom had finally called the cable company after three months of him hinting that WiFi just wasn't cutting it for his gaming setup anymore. But now that it was actually happening — installer coming tomorrow, everything about to change — he felt weird about it.

"You're literally freaking out about ethernet, his little sister Maya scoffed from the doorway, already decked out in her homecoming dress. The color was called 'tangerine dream' but it was giving traffic cone. "You need to chill."

"I'm not freaking out," Alex said, Maya's pet goldfish—ironically named Sharkbait—swimming lazily in its bowl on his desk. He'd inherited custody when she went to college last year. The fish had survived three dorm rooms, one accidentally dropped bowl, and now this.

The homecoming dance was tonight. Everyone would be there, including Jordan, who'd sat next to him in physics since September and somehow still didn't know his name. Alex had practiced exactly eight conversations in his head, all of which ended in him sounding like a weirdo or a try-hard or both.

"Just go, Maya said from the doorway, suddenly softer. "You'll regret it if you don't."

She was right, probably. But it was easier to stay in his room, staring at Sharkbait swimming in endless circles, pretending that someday he'd magically become the kind of person who just showed up at things without overthinking himself into paralysis.

His phone buzzed. Jordan: hey r u going tonight??

Alex stared at the message, his heart doing something genuinely concerning. The orange sunset glow from his window made everything feel cinematic and significant, which was exactly the problem. He always made everything feel cinematic and significant when it was probably just... life.

He typed: yeah, see u there

Sent.

The cable guy could fix his internet tomorrow. Tonight, he'd figure out the rest.