Three Second Memory

The bathroom at Jessica's house smelled like expensive vanilla candles and something else—something sharp, like panic.

I locked the door and slid down to the cold tile floor, clutching my dad's old newsboy cap like it was some kind of emotional support animal. My phone buzzed again. Another text from Maya.

"r u ok?? come back out"

Right. Because Maya was fine now. Maya, who'd spent all of eighth grade eating lunch with me behind the gym, was now _Maya_, who'd somehow learned to style her curls and make conversation with varsity soccer players without dissolving into awkward stammering. We'd walked in together, but she'd been absorbed into the living room crowd like a drop of food coloring in water.

And me? I was in the bathroom, communing with a goldfish.

The fish—orange and translucent, no bigger than my thumb—hung in the water of its bowl on the counter, watching me with what looked like judgment. His name was probably something basic like Goldie or Bubbles, but I decided to call him Chad.

"They say goldfish have a three-second memory," I whispered to Chad. "Lucky. Imagine if this whole night just... kept resetting."

Someone knocked on the door.

"Occupied," I called.

"Bella?"

Maya.

I opened the door. She looked perfect. I looked like someone who'd been hiding in a bathroom talking to a fish.

"Your hat," she said, gesturing to my cap. "You still have it on."

"Yeah."

"You never take it off. Even in class."

"It's my thing."

"Is it?" She stepped closer, her voice dropping. "Or is it your armor?"

We stared at each other. The goldfish swam lazily behind us, living his best three-second life.

"I'm scared," I admitted. "That if I take this off, I'm just... me. And that's not enough for this room."

Maya's expression softened. "Bella, you've been my best friend through braces, bad haircuts, and that time I cried over a boy who didn't know my name. You think I care about your hair?"

She reached out and tugged the cap off my head.

My messy curls tumbled out. I waited for the laugh.

"There you are," she said instead. "I missed you."

Behind us, Chad the goldfish did a little flip.

"Also," Maya added, "that hat was kinda giving newsboy vampire. It's time."

I laughed. A real laugh. And when we walked back into the party together, I didn't feel like hiding.