Three Feet From Perfect

The goldfish bobbed against the plastic bag like it knew something I didn't.

"You're actually gonna keep that thing?" Marcus asked, kicking his board against the rack. "Bro, that's like, peak freshman energy."

"Shut up, it's not for me." I adjusted my grip on the bag. "It's for Lily. She's been having a rough week."

"Right. Lily." Marcus's tone did that thing where it sounds like a compliment but definitely isn't. "Your 'friend' Lily. Who you've been 'just friends' with since October. Meanwhile, you won a goldfish for her birthday and I'm pretty sure she thinks you're, like, genuinely obsessed with her."

"You're full of bull, man."

"Am I?" He raised his eyebrows. "Because someone told me she was asking about who I was taking to formal. Which, first of all, rude. Second of all—" he laughed—"she's not subtle, Maya. She wanted to know if it was you."

My stomach did that thing where it forgets how to stomach. The cable car lurched forward, carrying us toward the summit, and I watched the resort get smaller below us like I could shrink this whole situation along with it.

The truth was, Marcus wasn't wrong. Not really. Lily and I had been doing this dance since fall—late-night homework sessions, sharing earbuds on the bus, her calling me when her parents fought again. But she'd never said anything. Neither had I. And now here I was, winning her a goldfish from some rigged carnival game on the mountain like that was normal best friend behavior.

But what if she didn't? What if I made things weird and lost the one person who actually got it? The cable car swayed slightly over a patch of pines, and I gripped the rail tighter.

"You gonna say something?" Marcus asked. "Or just stare at the fish?"

The goldfish stared back with its weird unblinking eyes. Something about it was strangely brave, swimming around in its temporary world like it belonged there.

"I'm gonna tell her," I said. The words felt scarier than the black diamond run we'd been avoiding all day.

Marcus actually smiled. "Finally. About time."

As the cable car approached the station, I looked at the goldfish again. It wasn't much—just a tiny orange life in a bag. But sometimes you have to swim in the weird, uncertain places before you find where you actually belong.

"Hey," I said. "You think she'll name it after me?"

Marcus groaned. "If she has any sense, she'll name it Bull. Because that was the most painfully obvious thing I've ever witnessed."