Three Pets, Zero Chill

Zoya's house-sitting gig was supposed to be easy money. Feed the cat, walk the dog, check on the goldfish. But this wasn't just any house — it belonged to Mrs. Chen, whose Persian cat Princess had more Instagram followers than Zoya's entire freshman class.

The dog, Buster, was a Golden Retriever with separation anxiety so severe he'd howled if Zoya breathed too loudly. And the goldfish — a majestic orange thing named Neptune — swam in a bowfront tank that cost more than Zoya's phone.

"Just keeping it lowkey," Zoya texted Maya, her crush who was supposedly coming over to "study" (they both knew what that meant). Zoya had spent two hours straightening her hair and picking an outfit that screamed effortless but clearly said I tried.

Then the weather app turned ominous. Thunderstorm warning. Severe. Maya was already on her way.

The first **lightning** strike hit while Zoya was frantically hiding Mrs. Chen's porcelain figurine collection. Princess the cat responded by staging a dramatic escape, vaulting off the sofa and scaling the curtains like a feline ninja. Buster lost his entire mind, barking at thunder that was still three counties away.

"Princess! Get down from there!" Zoya hissed, dragging a stepstool toward the window. The cat hissed back, all claws and judgment.

By the time Maya's mom dropped her off, Zoya was disheveled, the curtains were shredded, and Buster had peed on Mrs. Chen's imported rug. Maya stepped inside wearing a hoodie that smelled like vanilla and trouble, raising an eyebrow at the chaos.

"Rough night?" Maya grinned. And suddenly Zoya wasn't mortified anymore — she was laughing.

They spent the evening camped in the kitchen with a terrified **dog** wedged between them, eating stale crackers and watching Princess stalk Neptune's bowl like a tiny, fluffy predator. The **goldfish** swam obliviously. Outside, lightning flashed again, illuminating Maya's smile in the darkness.

"So," Maya said, her leg pressed against Zoya's. "About that studying?"

Zoya leaned in. The storm raged, the cat watched judgmentally from atop the refrigerator, and the fish kept swimming. Some nights were disasters. But this one was perfect.