The Goldfish Playbook

Marcus stared at Bubbles, his carnival-won goldfish, who stared back with what he swear was judgment.

"You're literally the only one who gets me," he told the fish. Bubbles blew a bubble. Marcus took it as agreement.

Being a sophomore was weird. Last year he was invisible, now everyone expected him to have it figured out. His friends had suddenly transformed into padel fanatics, spending every weekend at the club, talking about backhands and brackets like their lives depended on it. Marcus mostly just nodded along, feeling like a fraud.

"Dude, you're playing with us Saturday," Diego said at lunch, not asking. "Chloe's gonna be there."

Marcus's stomach did something embarrassing. Chloe, who sat two tables away and made his brain short-circuit. Chloe, who definitely knew how to play padel because she was good at everything.

"I don't even know the rules," Marcus protested.

"It's tennis but easier. You'll be fine."

He was not fine.

Saturday arrived with his stomach staging a full rebellion. The padel courts were confusing—walls everywhere, people shouting in Spanish, Diego serving like he was training for the Olympics. Marcus tripped over his own feet twice before they even started playing.

Chloe was there. She was wearing this yellow hoodie and she kept laughing at something her friend said, and Marcus forgot how to human. Every time the ball came near him, he swung like he was fighting off bees.

"You good?" Chloe asked after his fourth miss.

"Never better," Marcus squeaked.

After two hours of public humiliation, Diego announced they were heading to his house. "My parents put in the new pool. We're doing this."

Marcus considered faking sick. Considered calling his mom. Considered moving to another country.

But then Chloe splashed him—actually splashed him—and said, "Get in already, goldfish boy," and something in his chest unstuck.

The pool was freezing and perfect. Someone started a chicken fight. Marcus found himself on Diego's shoulders, facing off against Chloe, who was surprisingly competitive. They crashed into the water laughing, and when they surfaced, she pushed wet hair out of her face and said, "You're actually kind of funny when you're not overthinking everything."

Later, watching Bubbles swim in lazy circles, Marcus realized something: sometimes you had to jump into the cold water before you could learn to swim. And maybe, just maybe, being a little awkward was its own kind of cool.

"We're figuring it out," he told the fish. Bubbles didn't judge him this time.