The Goldfish Summer

Alex never thought her summer would revolve around someone else's pets, but here she was, standing in Riley Chen's bedroom while the most popular girl in sophomore year handed her a literal checklist. Riley's cat, a judgmental calico named Luna, had already claimed the highest point on the bookshelf and was staring down at Alex like she knew something.

"The goldfish need to be fed exactly once a day," Riley said, already checking her phone. "And don't forget Luna's vitamin supplement—it's in the fridge, mixed with her wet food. Mom's super particular about it."

"Got it," Alex said, trying to sound more confident than she felt. This was supposed to be easy money. Pet-sitting for two weeks while Riley's family went to Hawaii. But everything about Riley Chen's life felt intimidatingly perfect, from the coordinated aesthetic of her room to the way she moved through hallways like she owned them.

The first few days were weird. Alex would let herself into the empty house after her shift at the skate shop, still smelling like vanilla syrup and teenage anxiety. Luna would wind around her legs, demanding attention with a persistence that made Alex wonder if the cat actually liked her or just wanted food. The goldfish—a fantail named Bubbles and a comet named Comet—would dart to the surface whenever she entered the room, their mouths opening and closing in silent O's.

On day five, Alex sat cross-legged on Riley's bed, watching Luna bat at a sunbeam while the goldfish did their laps in their too-small tank. She pulled out her phone and scrolled through Instagram, seeing Riley's posts from Waikiki—golden hour photos, fruity drinks, a Riley who looked effortless and glowing. Alex compared it to her own summer: minimum wage, pet-sitting, and that persistent feeling she was missing some essential vitamin everyone else seemed to have in abundance.

"You know," she said to Luna, "you're actually kind of drama for someone who sleeps sixteen hours a day."

Luna blinked slowly.

That night, Alex's crush Jamie texted her. Riley's house. Riley's WiFi password. Jamie thought he was texting Riley. Alex stared at the message, her heart hammering. Riley had been barely civil to her all year—why would Jamie assume they were close enough for Alex to be house-sitting?

She stared at the goldfish, their scales catching the tank light. Goldfish had a three-second memory, right? Or was that a myth? Either way, they kept swimming, unbothered by the repetition.

"fake Riley" or be herself and risk humiliation. Instead, she opened the fridge and measured out Luna's vitamin supplement into the wet food, her hands steady. Luna wound around her ankles, purring like a tiny engine.

"You're not so bad," Alex said, scratching behind the calico's ears. "You're just a cat living your best life."

The next morning, she texted Jamie back: This is Alex, Riley's pet-sitter. She's in Hawaii til next week.

Jamie responded almost instantly: oh lol my bad. Wanna hang tho? I'm free later.

Alex stood in Riley's perfect bedroom, watching Luna stretch in a sunbeam and the goldfish rise to the surface like they were expecting something. For the first time all summer, she didn't feel like she was missing any essential component. Just Alex, pet-sitting, figuring it out one day at a time.