The Goldfish Pond Incident

Maya adjusted the brim of her dad's oversized fedora, pulling it low over her eyes. The hat had become her armor lately—a way to disappear in the hallways between classes while everyone else seemed to be living their best lives without a care in the world.

"You're literally drowning in that thing," said Kai, the only person who still talked to her since the Incident. He was carrying a clear plastic bag containing a single orange goldfish that眨 at him with what Maya swore was judgment.

"Shut up," she muttered, but adjusted the hat anyway. "What's with Nemo anyway?"

"Sophie's carnival prize," Kai explained. "She didn't want it, so I'm on goldfish duty. Running detention duty too, apparently."

The school's social pyramid had shifted dramatically over the summer, and Maya had somehow tumbled from comfortably middle-tier to social pariah. All because she'd accidentally posted her private poetry journal to her public story. For three whole minutes. Before she noticed and deleted it. But apparently, that was all it took.

"You know," Kai said, "I read what you posted. The stuff about feeling like you're always watching life from the outside? That was actually kind of fire."

Maya stopped walking. The goldfish bag swayed between them. "You're just saying that."

"I'm not. My cousin writes for the literary magazine. They're looking for pieces about identity stuff. You should submit."

The orange light of sunset hit the school pond just right as they approached. Maya thought about how she'd spent the entire school year running—from her feelings, from her creativity, from anyone who might really see her.

"Fine," she said, taking the goldfish bag from Kai. "But only if you help me with the submission process. And you're coming to the carnival with me Saturday. No hiding."

Kai grinned. "Deal. But you're buying the churros."

As they released the goldfish into the pond—because obviously they weren't keeping a carnival prize in a bag forever—Maya tilted her hat back. Maybe it was time to stop hiding. Maybe being seen wasn't the worst thing that could happen.

The goldfish swam away into the orange-tinted water, and Maya finally felt like she could breathe again.