The Night Bella Got Wet

The carnival goldfish swam in its plastic bag like my last shred of dignity. I stood at the edge of Sarah's above-ground pool, clutching Bella like she was the Holy Grail, while my crush floated three feet away with her perfect hair slicked back like she'd stepped out of a TikTok tutorial.

My iPhone kept buzzing in my pocket—probably the group chat roasting me for winning a fish instead of the giant stuffed bear everyone knew I'd been eyeing. But no, I had to go full simp mode and spend twenty bucks trying to win the absolute wrong prize.

"Having fun there, goldfish boy?" Sarah called out, splashing water my way. Her friends giggled. I felt my face burn hotter than July asphalt.

"Actually, her name is Bella," I said, because apparently I was committed to making this worse.

Then Jake—our baseball team's catcher and the walking definition of tall, dark, and impossible—pulled himself out of the pool like some movie protagonist. Water dripped everywhere. He had that confidence I'd been faking since seventh grade.

"Nice fish," he said, and I braced myself for the roast. "My sister won one last summer. It lived for three years."

"Really?" I perked up. Because Jake Tanner was talking to me. About fish.

"Yeah. She named it Pizza." He shrugged. "We're not creative people."

Before I could process that Jake Tanner was having a normal conversation with me, someone shouted "CANNONBALL!" and a human torpedo launched off the diving board. Wave hit me square in the chest. The plastic bag flew from my grip.

Time moved in awful slow motion. I lunged. Jake lunged. We collided hard enough that I saw stars, and then we were both underwater, chlorine stinging my eyes, fingers scrambling through the dark. When I broke the surface, gasping, Jake held up the bag triumphantly like he'd caught Moby Dick.

"Bella lives!" he declared.

The pool erupted into applause. Sarah's friends were actually cheering. My iPhone buzzed again in my soaking pocket, and I didn't even care. Jake passed me back the fish, his hand brushing mine, and I swear my heart did something that belonged in a different genre.

"You're welcome," he said with this half-smile that made my knees forget how legs work.

Later, wrapped in a towel and watching Bella swim in her new temporary home (a mixing bowl Sarah's mom found), I checked my phone. The group chat was blowing up with videos of the rescue mission.

new_group_chat_name: BellaAndHerBoys

I stared at my screen, feeling something warm and terrifying and amazing blooming in my chest. Sometimes the worst moments become the best ones. Sometimes you win a fish and lose your dignity, but gain something way more interesting.

"You good, goldfish boy?" Jake dropped onto the lawn chair beside me.

"Yeah," I said, and for the first time all night, I wasn't lying.