Three Dollar Fish

The boardwalk smelled like fried dough and desperation, which was basically the vibe of sophomore year anyway. I wiped my sweaty **palms** on my cutoff shorts for the third time, watching Jake from algebra pretend he couldn't toss a ping-pong ball into a fishbowl to save his life.

"Bro, it's literally physics," I said, probably too loud.

He turned, grinning that stupid grin that made my stomach do uncomfortable gymnastics. "Then you try, genius."

So I did. And somehow—possibly through pure anxiety-induced adrenaline—I sank the shot on my first try. The carnie dude raised his eyebrows as he handed over a plastic bag containing one confused orange **goldfish**. We named him Chad immediately, because of course we did.

"What are you gonna do with him?" Jake asked as we walked toward the beach, our fingers brushing accidentally-on-purpose.

"My mom's gonna kill me," I groaned. "I can't even keep succulents alive."

**Lightning** cracked across the sky like the universe was laughing at my impending parental execution. A storm had been threatening all evening, but this was different—sudden and electric, the kind that makes your hair stand on end.

"We should probably—" Jake started, but the first fat raindrop cut him off.

We ran toward the beach bathrooms, clutching Chad's water like our lives depended on it. By some miracle, we made it under the overhang just as the sky opened up, drowning out everything except our breathing and the distant crash of waves.

Jake looked at me, rain dripping from his eyelashes. "This is the worst date ever."

My heart stopped. "Date?"

"I mean—" His face flushed the exact color of Chad's scales. "Unless you don't want it to be?"

I looked at this ridiculous boy, at the storm raging behind us, at my future aquatic homicide victim swimming in circles, and felt something warm and terrifying bloom in my chest. "I kind of do, though."

"Yeah?" He stepped closer, our hands finding each other in the space between us.

"Yeah." I swallowed. "But we're definitely keeping Chad. I'm not letting you win another one."

He laughed, and the sound was better than the storm, better than winning, better than anything. "Deal."

Chad survived exactly two weeks. Jake and I made it to senior prom. The boardwalk carnival? Still my favorite place in the world.