The Goldfish Test

Alex's first week at Northwood High felt like trying to climb a pyramid wearing roller skates. The social hierarchy was visible from day one: seniors at the top, then juniors, sophomores, and freshmen scattered at the bottom like dropped pennies.

"Watch out for the sphinx," his lab partner Josh whispered during fourth period biology, nodding toward a senior with perfectly curled hair who sat alone at a lab table, surveying the room like she owned it. "She's been running the social pyramid since freshman year. Nobody gets past her without answering her riddles."

Alex snorted. "Riddles? What is this, Egyptian mythology class?"

"I'm serious," Josh said, pointing at the classroom's goldfish bowl near the window. "Legend says she makes people stare at that goldfish for three minutes straight while she asks impossible questions. If you can't answer, you're stuck at the bottom of the pyramid forever."

"That's literally the dumbest thing I've ever heard," Alex said, but he kept glancing at the goldfish — a lone orange fish with fan-like fins that drifted through the water like it had nowhere better to be.

By Friday, Alex found himself face-to-face with the sphinx herself at lunch. She blocked his path to the exit.

"Freshman," she said. Her voice was surprisingly soft.

"Yeah, that's me. Alex."

"I'm Riley." She gestured to an empty seat. "Sit. Your friend Josh thinks I'm some kind of social tyrant who uses goldfish to torment people."

Alex sat. "He might have mentioned something like that."

Riley laughed, a sound like wind chimes. "The goldfish is named Cleo. She's been in that classroom since before I started here. I used to stare at her during lunch freshman year because I was too scared to sit with anyone." She leaned in. "Here's the real riddle: Why do freshmen spend so much energy climbing a pyramid that collapses in three years anyway?"

Alex thought about the goldfish, swimming in endless circles. How everyone acted like high school was everything when it was really just a really long hallway.

"Because we're scared nobody'll see us otherwise," Alex said.

Riley smiled, and for the first time, she didn't look like a sphinx at all. "Exactly. But Cleo's been swimming alone for three years and she's fine. Some of us don't need to join the school."