Three Days at the Bottom of the Bowl

I've been a zombie since seventh period PE started. Not the cool, walking-dead Netflix kind. The other kind—the one that hasn't slept since Wednesday because TikTok happens and suddenly it's 2 AM and you're watching someone build tiny furniture for hamsters.

"Dude, you look wrecked," Marcus says, sliding into the cafeteria seat across from me. He's my best friend, which is basically saying he's the only person who knows I collect vintage Pokémon cards and hasn't leaked it to the entire freshman class.

"Rough night," I mumble, poking at something that might be pizza.

"Parents still making you take those gummy vitamins?" He grins. Marcus thinks it's hilarious that my mom is convinced Vitamin D deficiency is why I'm "not my sparkly self."

"She switched to the adult ones. They taste like chalk and regret."

We talk about usual stuff—how Chloe definitely noticed his new haircut (she didn't), whether we're gonna fail Mr. Harrison's chem test (probably), and why the school goldfish hasn't moved since October.

"Barnaby's not dead," I insist. "He's just... vibing."

"He's floating at the top, Leo. That's not vibing. That's ascending."

But here's the thing no gets about Barnaby. Everyone sees a goldfish with a three-second memory, doing the same loop around the tiny castle because that's what goldfish do. But I've been watching him during lunch since September. He's not doing the same loop. He's figuring it out. Every day, a little faster. Every day, a little more certain.

Maybe we're all just swimming in circles until we aren't.

That night I dump the vitamin bottle into the trash can under my desk. Not because I'm rebellious now or whatever. But because maybe what I need isn't something you can buy at Target. Maybe I need to stop floating at the top of the bowl.

I pick up my phone, open Snapchat, and send Chloe a message: Marcus thinks you didn't notice his haircut.

She responds in thirty seconds: lol i noticed. it's cute.

I screenshot it. I'm going to make Marcus carry this around like it's his birth certificate.

Sometimes you gotta be a zombie for a while before you remember how to be alive again. Barnaby's still figuring it out. So am I. At least we've got time.