The Goldfish Parade

Maya's cat, Barnaby, sat by the bathroom door like a fuzzy sentinel while she stared at her reflection in the mirror. The sophomore formal was tonight, and honestly? She was lowkey freaking out.

"You look stunning," her little brother Leo called from the hallway, holding up his phone. "Now can we please go? I've been waiting in the car for twelve minutes."

"You're literally not even dressed yet, Leo."

"Okay but I'm spiritually ready, which is what counts." He pushed the door open wider. "Also, Barnaby keeps staring at the fish tank like he's plotting something. Again."

Maya sighed. Last month, Barnaby had somehow opened the goldfish tank's lid and gone swimming—more like wading, really—in the filtered water while chasing Bubbles and Fin around. Her parents had called it 'traumatic for the fish.' Maya called it 'the most chaotic Tuesday of my life.' Since then, the cat had been plotting his revenge.

"Put Barnaby in your room," she said, adjusting her eyeliner. "And maybe feed the goldfish before he decides to go swimming again."

Leo snorted. "You say that like it's a normal thing cats do. 'Oh, just casual swimming with my lunch.'"

Maya smiled at her reflection. For the first time all week, she wasn't overthinking everything. The dress, the date (or lack thereof), whether her friends would think she was trying too hard or not enough. Standing there while her brother made jokes and her cat silently judged his goldfish frenemies—somehow, it made the formal feel smaller. Manageable.

"Maya!" Leo yelled from downstairs. "Barnaby is literally pawing at the tank again! I repeat: we have a situation!"

She grabbed her clutch and headed for the door, heart lighter than it had been in days. Tonight would be whatever it would be. But right now, she had to save a goldfish from a very determined cat.