Three Seconds of Glory

The carnival goldfish — which I'd stupidly named Neptune — swam in its plastic bag like it owned the place. Which, technically, it kind of did now. I'd spent twenty bucks and my dignity trying to win it, mostly because Maya was watching, and she'd done that thing where she tucks hair behind her ear and smiles, and suddenly I'm making decisions based entirely on teenage brain chemistry.

"You're actually keeping it?" Jordan asked, flicking the brim of my snapback. The hat was already crooked from when I'd dramatically thrown it after missing the first fourteen ring tosses.

"Yeah, bro. It's basically a pet. Low maintenance. Chicks dig sensitive guys with pets."

"Chicks dig guys who don't carry around fish in plastic bags at house parties."

Valid point. This was Tyler's party — his parents were out of town, which meant approximately zero supervision and approximately a hundred percent chance someone would puke in the backyard. The pool was already full of people who'd clearly pre-gamed too hard.

"Just hide it somewhere," Jordan said. "Put it in your—"

"My hat."

"What?"

"I'll put Neptune in my hat. Keep him safe. No one will know."

This seemed like an excellent idea until approximately four minutes later, when Maya walked over and said the exact words I'd been waiting three months to hear: "Hey Marcus, want to play beer pong?"

And then, the words that made my stomach drop: "Nice hat. Can I see it?"

Before I could process the consequences of my life choices, she reached for my snapback.

"WAIT—"

Too late. She flipped it over.

A plastic bag containing approximately sixteen ounces of water and one very confused goldfish splashed directly onto Maya's white denim jacket.

The entire backyard went silent.

Neptune flopped onto her sleeve, gills working like he was judging my entire existence.

Maya stared at her fish-soaked jacket. Then at me. Then at the goldfish currently making a break for it across her shoulder.

"Did your fish just... commit psychological warfare?" she asked.

"I can explain," I said, despite having absolutely no explanation that didn't make me sound unhinged.

Someone started laughing. Then Jordan. Then Maya, shoulders shaking, water dripping from her jacket, Neptune still wriggling on her sleeve.

"You're an idiot," she said, grinning. "But you're an idiot who spent twenty bucks trying to impress me, so..."

She scooped up Neptune, dropped him back in the bag, and handed me my hat.

"You're carrying the fish. And you're buying me dinner. And you're telling everyone this was part of your master plan."

"Deal?"

"Deal."

Somewhere in the chaos, Jordan whispered, "Smooth, bro." And honestly? It kind of was.