Three Seconds of Goldfish

The pool party at Maya's house was supposed to be legendary. Everyone said it would be. But there I was, sitting on the edge of her pristine **pool**, legs dangling in water that sparkled like something from a music video, feeling like the most awkward person to ever awkward.

"You gonna swim or just marinate?" Marcus asked, flopping onto the lounge chair beside me. Of course Marcus looked effortless. His hair was perfect even wet, and he'd somehow managed to make his swim trunks look intentional.

"Working up to it," I lied. I wasn't working up to anything. I was working up the courage to leave without everyone noticing.

Maya's mom had set up this weird station by the snack table with candles and crystals. "Palm readings, five dollars!" a sign announced in loopy letters. Maya was over there, laughing as some girl traced lines on her hand, pretending to understand the universe through skin creases.

"Let me see yours," Marcus said, grabbing my hand before I could process what was happening. His **palm** was warm against mine, and suddenly my heart was doing something totally embarrassing. "You've got a long life line," he announced solemnly, like he hadn't just made that up. "And this one means you'll meet someone important. Today, probably."

I laughed, but it came out weird. "You're terrible at this."

"I'm excellent at this." He didn't let go of my hand. "So what's actually keeping you over here? Real talk."

I considered lying. Instead, I gestured toward the glass bowl on the snack table, where a single orange **goldfish** swam in endless circles. "Him. We're having a moment."

Marcus followed my gaze. "Goldfish crackers?"

"Actual goldfish. His name is Gerald." I paused. "Okay I made up the name. But look at him. He's just going around and around, and we're all over here pretending to be cool, and meanwhile Gerald is living his best life."

Marcus stared at the fish, then back at me, and started cracking up. Not mean laughing – the real kind. "You're comparing yourself to a party fish?"

"Gerald's not a party fish. Gerald's an icon." I stood up, suddenly feeling lighter. "You know what? Let's swim."

"Finally." Marcus stood too. "Race you to the deep end."

I dove in before he could finish the sentence, surfacing to water streaming down my face and Marcus splashing me from three feet away. Maya abandoned her palm reading to jump in with us, and somehow I was part of it – part of the laughter, the canonballs, the moment that felt like something out of a movie.

Later, dripping and happy, I caught Marcus's eye across the pool. He held up his hand, palm out, like a secret handshake only we understood.

And Gerald? Gerald was still swimming in circles, probably having a better time than any of us. Honestly? Respect.