The Truth About Goldfish

Maya's first high school house party felt like walking into a lion's den—except the lions were wearing too much Axe body spray and the den was someone's basement rec room. She clutched her red solo cup like a lifeline, heart doing gymnastics every time someone bumped into her.

"Spinach artichoke dip!" someone announced too loudly, shoving a bowl toward her. Maya took a tiny scoop, then spent three minutes paranoid that green flecks were stuck in her braces. Classic her—overthinking everything while everyone else was busy living their best lives.

Then she saw him: Caleb, the sophomore with the easy laugh who somehow made varsity baseball and still got straight A's. He was leaning against the ping-pong table where guys were playing "bull"—some drinking game that involved slamming cups and shouting things Maya couldn't quite catch. His orange hoodie glowed under the blacklight, making him look like he'd been dipped in sunset.

She'd been crushing on him since homeroom, which felt pathetic at 16. But here she was, still staring.

"You gonna stand there all night or actually play?" A girl with perfectly curled hair nudged her, pointing to the goldfish bowl on the counter. "Truth or goldfish. Swallow one whole, or answer whatever question we ask."

Maya's stomach did a flip. Goldfish? The crackers, right? But something about everyone's grins made her pause. Please don't let it be actual fish.

"What's the question?" she heard herself say, because apparently her mouth had decided tonight was the night to stop being invisible.

Caleb turned around. Their eyes met across the basement. He smiled, and Maya forgot how to breathe.

"What's something you've never told anyone?" the girl asked, grinning like she already knew the answer would be boring.

Maya thought about everything: how she still slept with the teddy bear her grandma gave her before she died. How she pretended to understand memes she didn't get. How she was terrified she'd never figure out who she was supposed to be.

"I still don't know what I'm doing," she said, voice shaking. "Like, ever. I just pretend I do."

The basement went quiet. Then Caleb pushed off the ping-pong table and walked over.

"Same," he said, grinning. "Wanna get out of here? I think I saw real food upstairs."

Maya's heart did gymnastics again, but this time? They were sticking the landing.