Layla, a 17-year-old Afghan girl with deep brown eyes and a quiet air, gazes thoughtfully at the school pond, her hijab catching a playful breeze. Today, the pond is her secret world, its goldfish darting between lily pads and sunbeams. Hungry for both adventure and something more, she kneels at the water’s edge, glancing over her shoulder to ensure no one is watching.

With a swift motion, Layla scoops two wriggling goldfish from the pond and, heart pounding, swallows them whole. The sensation is strange and immediate—a fluttering movement deep inside. Nearby, the gentle sounds of lunchtime chatter continue, oblivious to the daring feat occurring at the water’s edge.

As Layla rises, an odd sensation grows in her stomach: a sloshing, gurgling symphony that’s both embarrassing and fascinating. She clutches her midsection, her cheeks flushed, just as Omar, a curious classmate with a wide, earnest grin, approaches. Omar tilts his head, clearly intrigued by the strange sounds. "Did you swallow a radio or something? What’s making your stomach talk like that?" "It’s a secret," Layla whispers, eyes sparkling. "Wanna listen?"

Layla and Omar slip behind the stairs, the hush broken only by the faint gurgling from her belly. Omar lays his head gently on Layla’s stomach, listening in awe as the sounds shift and ripple beneath his ear. "It’s like there’s an aquarium inside you," he marvels, his voice full of wonder. "Maybe there is," she grins, the thrill of their shared secret making her heart race.

Layla sits rigidly at her desk, her notebook untouched as her insides churn and grumble louder than before. The room is silent except for the teacher’s droning, but everyone turns as Layla’s stomach growls, a close-up moment drawing eyes to her midsection and the distinct outline of her belly button beneath her uniform. Embarrassment battles with pride as she pulls her sweater tighter, determined to ride out the commotion.

Layla leans over the sink, hands pressed to her stomach, feeling the last flutter of movement subside. As she straightens, she studies her reflection, a small smile playing on her lips. "Next time, maybe three," she whispers, confidence blooming within her as she heads back to class, ready for whatever comes next.