Three Seconds of Gold

The goldfish was probably dead. That was Maya's first thought when she spotted it in a Solo cup on Tyler's kitchen counter, swimming in what looked like tap water and regret.

"You wanna play?" Jake asked, holding out a red Solo cup. At a party. Because apparently, at sixteen, "party" meant standing in a rich kid's kitchen while your so-called friend played beer pong with people who wouldn't look at you twice in the hallway.

The lightning storm outside made the kitchen strobe-flash every thirty seconds. Perfect. As if Maya's anxiety wasn't already giving her enough internal lighting effects.

"I'm good," she said, which was a lie. She wasn't good. She was tired of following Chloe around like a lost puppy while Chloe reinvented herself every three weeks. This week's personality: party girl who apparently didn't care that her ride hadn't had anything to drink since water at lunch.

"Suit yourself." Jake turned away, already scanning the room for someone cooler to talk to.

Maya looked at the goldfish again. It was barely moving, just hovering there like it had given up on life, or at least on this particular cup. "Same," she whispered.

Her phone buzzed. Chloe, from somewhere in the crowded living room: *where r u??? come dance!!!!*

Maya stared at the screen. She could go. She could squeeze into the living room, pretend to have fun, let Chloe use her as backup while she flirted with Tyler and his friends. She could play her role.

Or she could be that person who left her own friend at a party.

Lightning flashed again, closer this time. The kitchen went white-bright, and for a second, everything was sharp and clear and terrible. The goldfish drifted to the surface, opened its mouth once, then sank again.

Maya grabbed her jacket from the back of a barstool. She paused, then picked up the Solo cup with the fish.

"What are you doing with that?" Jake asked, looking at her like she'd lost it.

"Getting him out of here," she said. "This isn't a party. It's a hostage situation."

She walked out the back door into the warm summer rain, leaving her phone buzzing in her pocket, leaving Chloe to reinvent herself without an audience. The goldfish swam faster in the cup, like it knew.

Some things you had to save yourself from. Some friends you had to outgrow like last year's jeans.

The lightning cracked overhead, and for the first time all night, Maya didn't flinch.