The Goldfish Mission

Maya felt like a zombie Monday morning, third week of sophomore year, dragging herself through the hallway while everyone else seemed to actually have their life together. Her oversized black beanie—she refused to call it a hat, hats were for tourists—was pulled low over her eyes, basically a shield against the fluorescent lights and the terrifying reality that she still hadn't found her people yet.

"You're doing it again," whispered Chloe, sliding up beside her at the lockers. "The spy thing."

"I'm not spying!" Maya protested, though they both knew she was absolutely spying on the table by the windows where the theater kids sat. Specifically, where Alex sat. Alex with the leather jacket and the effortless laugh and the ability to quote obscure movies that Maya had definitely seen first.

"You're literally observing them like you're conducting research," Chloe said, popping her gum. "Just go sit with them already. What's the worst that happens? They reject you and you survive to awkwardly live another day?"

Maya's stomach did that thing where it felt like her goldfish, Napoleon, was swimming laps inside her. She'd gotten Napoleon last month after her parents' divorce was finalized, partly because she needed something alive in her room, partly because fish didn't ask awkward questions about why she was spending so much time in her room watching the same three movies over and over.

"I can't just," Maya started, then noticed Alex was already looking at her. Actually looking. Not the casual glance she'd been analyzing like forensic evidence all week, but like, real looking. With interest.

"Hey," Alex said, suddenly there by her locker. "You like that vintage thriller poster on your binder, right? The one from the seventies?"

"Yeah!" Maya's voice came out slightly too loud. "I mean, yeah. My dad showed it to me when I was—" She stopped. Didn't talk about dad. "I found it at this old video store that's closing down."

"No way," Alex's face lit up. "I've been looking for that forever for my film project. Would you want to come check out this other place I found? They've got original posters and—" They paused. "Only if you want to, though. I'm not trying to be weird about it."

"I'd love to," Maya said, and somehow she wasn't even lying. The words came out easy, like she'd been practicing them in her head, which she absolutely had.

Later that night, floating on her bed like she'd just survived something, Maya texted Chloe: I think I just made plans with Alex. WITHOUT spying first. I feel like I can take on a bear. I feel unstoppable.

Chloe replied immediately: You're ridiculous, but also proud of you. Also Napoleon needs to be fed. Tell Alex I said they have excellent taste.

Maya laughed, turning on her lamp. Napoleon swam to the front of his bowl, opening and closing his tiny mouth like he had opinions about her day. Maybe he did. Maybe the point wasn't that she felt ready to face the world, but that she was finally willing to try. One weird, wonderful, terrifying step at a time.