Bear Creek Blues

Cross-country practice was supposed to be chill—just another Thursday afternoon doing loops around the park while Coach Anderson timed us from his folding chair. But when you're Leo Martínez, freshman and officially the shortest guy on the team, nothing is ever chill.

I was already dead last, my lungs burning like I'd swallowed actual fire, when I heard Maya laughing ahead. Maya Torres, the junior varsity captain who somehow made running eight-minute miles look like she was floating. She'd stopped at the creek that cut through the trail, and when I caught up, she was doubled over, practically losing it.

"You good?" I wheezed, regretting it immediately. My voice sounded like I'd been chewing on gravel.

Maya pointed at something near the water's edge. "Look."

And there it was. A bear. An actual, legitimate black bear, just standing there like it was waiting for the bus. It wasn't even forty feet away, calmly drinking from the creek like this was totally normal behavior.

I froze. My brain went full panic mode. I was running on adrenaline and zero survival instincts.

"Is it—should we—" I started, my voice cracking spectacularly.

Maya grabbed my arm, her grip surprisingly strong. "We need to back away. Slowly. No sudden movements."

We moved like we were underwater, every second stretching into forever. The bear didn't even look up. Just kept drinking, completely unbothered by two high schoolers having a collective meltdown ten yards away.

Once we were safely back near the parking lot, Maya finally lost it, sliding to the ground and laughing so hard she had to wipe actual tears from her eyes.

"Your face," she managed between gasps. "You looked like you'd seen a ghost."

"I mean, BEAR, Maya. I almost became bear food. That's not nothing."

"You were amazing though," she said, and something in her voice made my chest do this weird fluttery thing. "You didn't bolt. You stayed calm."

I hadn't felt calm. I'd felt like throwing up. But Maya thought I was brave, and suddenly the whole bear encounter felt less like terrifying and more like... a core memory in the making.

"We should probably tell Coach," I said, still processing everything.

Maya stood up, dusting off her shorts. "Yeah. But after that, you're showing me your running playlist. If you can handle a bear like that, your music taste must be legendary."

I walked back to the team with Maya Torres, my heart still racing but for a completely different reason now. Some days, you go for a run, you see a bear by the water, and your entire life changes in like five minutes flat.

Cross-country wasn't so bad after all.