Three Feet Under

Maya dragged herself through seventh period, operating on approximately zero hours of sleep and what felt like a permanent brain fog. Her phone had died at 2 AM while doom-scrolling through Kai's Instagram stories—each one showing them living their best life at some party Maya hadn't been invited to. Typical.

"You look like a literal zombie," Jamie whispered, sliding into the seat beside her. "Rough night?"

"Rough life," Maya muttered, resting her forehead on the cool desk. "I think my soul left my body somewhere around third period."

Jamie laughed, but their eyes held that familiar concern. "Still obsessing over Kai?"

"No," Maya lied. "Yes. Maybe. I don't know anymore. It's just—everything feels different now. They've got this whole new squad, and I'm still the same person who kept a goldfish named Mr. Bubbles alive for three years like it was some kind of personality achievement."

"Mr. Bubbles was iconic, though. That fish had more rizz than half our grade."

Maya snorted, finally lifting her head. "He really did. Remember when I tried to teach him tricks?"

"You were so convinced he could high-five you."

"In my defense, he DID lift his fin that one time. That counts."

The bell rang, and they gathered their stuff in that chaotic end-of-day flurry. Outside, the spring air hit them—finally warm enough to ditch the hoodies, finally feeling like something real.

"Hey," Jamie said, stopping at their bikes. "You know Kai's not the only friend you've got, right? Some of us actually like hanging out with you. Even without the fish tricks."

Maya felt something in her chest loosen. "I know. Thanks. And hey—maybe this weekend we can finally raid that new escape room downtown?"

"Only if I get to be the one who solves the puzzles this time. No more 'let Maya figure it out, she's secretly a genius.'"

"Deal. No genius powers. Just us, absolutely getting stuck on the first clue and having to ask for hints like the failures we are."

Jamie grinned. "Perfect."

As they pedaled home, Maya's phone buzzed in her pocket—Kai had posted again. This time, she kept riding. The zombie fog was lifting, and honestly? She was done haunting her own past. Some fish get too big for their bowl, and sometimes that's exactly how it should be.