The Goldfish Text

Maya's palm was sweating. Like, actually dripping onto her favorite orange corduroys. Which was gross, but also kind of perfect because tonight was already a disaster before it even started.

"You got this, bestie," Chloe whispered, handing Maya her iPhone back. "Just act natural. Act like you send texts to Jake every single day and it's literally not a big deal."

Maya stared at the screen. Her thumbs were hovering over the keyboard like two terrified spiders. She'd typed and deleted approximately four hundred variations of "hey" in the past three minutes.

The party thumped around them. Some sophomore in a bucket hat was DJing from his phone, massacreing perfectly good songs. Maya kept glancing at Jake across the room. He was wearing that faded black beanie pulled low, laughing at something with his friends. His laugh was this ridiculous wheeze that made Maya's chest feel tight and weird.

"Did you send it yet?" Chloe hissed.

"I'm literally composing a masterpiece of casual communication," Maya lied. She hadn't moved.

Then Jake started walking toward them. Maya panicked. She shoved her phone into Chloe's hands and practically lunged for the solo cup on the nearest table. She downed half of it before realizing it was lukewarm tap water.

"Hey," Jake said.

Maya swallowed wrong and started coughing. Actual hacking, dignity-shredding coughs. Jake reached out like he was going to pat her back, then thought better of it and awkwardly settled on looking concerned.

"You good?"

"So good," Maya wheezed. "So incredibly good. Just hydrating. You know. Staying hydrated. For health."

Chloe was making frantic hand signals behind Jake's back. Either she was having a seizure or she was trying to communicate something very important.

"So I was wondering," Jake said, rubbing the back of his neck, "if you wanted to maybe hang out sometime? Like, not at a party?"

Maya's brain short-circuited. She opened her mouth but what came out was: "I have a goldfish."

Jake stared at her.

Chloe put her face in her hands.

"His name is Bubbles," Maya continued, because apparently her subconscious was determined to make this moment as painful as possible. "He's very committed to his personal growth journey. He does laps. Very fitness-oriented."

Jake blinked. Then his shoulders started shaking. Then he was wheezing that laugh Maya loved.

"Bubbles the fitness goldfish," he said. "That's legendary."

Maya's cheeks were on fire but she was laughing too. Something in her chest unkinked.

"So is that a yes?" he asked.

"Yes," she said. "But you have to meet Bubbles. He's very particular about who he lets into his circle."

"Deal." Jake pulled his phone from his pocket. "Number?"

Maya recited it. He texted her immediately — just a goldfish emoji.

"Smooth," she said.

"I try," he said, backing away with this tiny smile that Maya would think about for actual weeks. "See you Monday, Maya."

When he was gone, Chloe surrendered Maya's phone.

"You didn't send it," Chloe said.

"I didn't need to." Maya looked at the goldfish emoji, glowing on her screen. "He came over. And I told him about my fitness-oriented fish."

"Your flirting style is concerning," Chloe said, "but honestly? I respect the chaos."

Maya's palm finally stopped sweating. Sometimes disaster was just another word for perfect.