The Physics of Failing
My goldfish lasted three days. Three days before it went belly-up in its bowl, leaving me with nothing but an empty tank and the realization that I couldn't keep alive something that literally had one job: swim.
"That's rough, bro," Marcus said, leaning against my locker like he owned the school. "But hey, at least you didn't kill your mom's fern like I did freshman year. That thing was ancient."
I stuffed my trig textbook into my backpack. "Mrs. Henderson says our physics project is due Monday. The one about structural integrity."
"The pyramid?" Marcus winced. "Yeah, mine's literally falling apart. Tape can only do so much, you know?"
The hallway smelled like floor wax and teenage anxiety. Someone's water bottle leaked near the entrance, creating a puddle that everyone was carefully avoiding—like it was lava, or a social interaction with the principal.
"My dad's been helping me," I lied. He hadn't been home in two weeks. "We used—"
"Yo! Eli!" Sarah called from down the hall. She had this way of walking that made everything seem effortless, while the rest of us were just trying not to trip over our own feet. "You coming to the baseball game today?"
My stomach did that thing where it forgot how to organ. "Probably not. Gotta finish—"
"The pyramid," she finished, rolling her eyes like she knew exactly how pathetic my project situation was. "Mine's a disaster too. We should study together sometime."
Marcus raised both eyebrows at me. I ignored him.
"Yeah, maybe," I said, trying to sound chill instead of like my heart was doing cartwheels.
Sarah kept walking, but she glanced back. Like, actually glanced back.
"Bro," Marcus whispered. "Did that just happen?"
"I think I need to change my goldfish's water more often," I said, which made zero sense but was somehow the only thing my brain could come up with.
"What?"
"Never mind."
The bell rang. Sarah disappeared into the crowd. My physics project was still a disaster. My goldfish was still dead. But for some reason, the puddle in the hallway didn't seem so big anymore.