The Last Swim
Maya stared at her phone, the notification glaring back at her like an accusation: *Your best friend just watched your story.* If that were true, then why hadn't Jen replied to any of her texts in three weeks?
Maya's room felt suffocatingly small, cluttered with memories of better times. The culprit was swimming lazily in the corner: her goldfish, Bubbles, a birthday gift from Jen back when they were still the kind of friends who exchanged actual presents instead of just ghosting each other. Bubbles stared at her through the glass, looking judgmental. Or maybe Maya was just projecting.
"You don't understand," she told the fish. "Everything's different now."
It was. Since starting high school, Maya felt like she'd been moving through life in slow motion, watching everyone else speed past her with their perfect friend groups and Instagram-worthy moments. Meanwhile, she was still the same awkward eighth grader who hid in the library during lunch.
The worst part? She couldn't even talk to Jen about it. Because Jen had moved on to cooler friends, better parties, and a version of herself that didn't include Maya.
Her phone buzzed. A text from Jen: *Hey, can you come over?*
Maya's heart did that embarrassing flutter-thing it always did when Jen actually noticed her existence. But then she remembered the past three weeks of being ignored, of watching Jen's stories from the sidelines, of feeling like the backup friend you only called when your real plans fell through.
She was done being a zombie to their friendship, just shambling along wherever Jen led her.
"Can't," Maya typed back, her fingers trembling. "Got stuff to do."
It wasn't true. Her plans involved exactly nothing except overthinking every interaction she'd had that week. But sometimes you had to choose yourself first.
Bubbles swam to the front of the tank and did a little flip. Maya smiled. Maybe she didn't need a new friend group. Maybe she just needed to stop waiting for someone else's permission to exist.
She grabbed her sketchbook—something she used to love doing before she started caring so much about what other people thought. For the first time in months, she opened it and started drawing. Not because it would look good on her feed, but because she actually wanted to.
The goldfish watched her work, and for once, Maya didn't feel quite so lonely in her room. She felt like someone who was finally learning how to be her own friend first.