Bear Minimum

The vitamin gummy bounced off my forehead during third period."Welcome to high school," Riley whispered, barely looking up from her phone. I brushed the orange gummy bear off my desk, pretending my face wasn't burning hotter than the cafeteria pizza."Thanks, I guess?" I muttered, shoving it into my pocket.

Later, sprawled across my bed watching cable TV while my phone blew up with texts I couldn't bring myself to answer, I thought about how everything had changed since my dad moved out. The vitamins were supposed to help me "cope," according to my mom. The endless cable marathons were supposed to distract me. Neither was working.

"Zoey! Phone!" My mom's voice cut through my wallowing.

It was him. "Hey, kiddo. How's school?" He sounded tinny, distant—like he was calling from another planet, not just Montana.

"Fine," I said, because fine was easier than explaining how I'd become the girl who got hit by gummy bears during algebra."Your mom told me about the vitamins. You taking them?"

"Yeah. Every day. Super healthy now." I lied.

"Good. That's—" The line crackled. "That's good. Listen, I saw something today I thought you'd like. A bear. Big one, right near the cabin."

I sat up. "Like, a real bear?"

"Huge. Just... existing. Doing its bear thing. Made me think of you."

"Why? Because I'm huge?" I laughed, but something in my chest tightened.

"Because you're strong. Because you're going to figure this out."

After we hung up, I stared at my ceiling. Then I pulled those gummy vitamins out of my pocket and lined them up on my nightstand like weird little soldiers. Not because I believed they'd fix anything, but because my dad had sent them. Because sometimes you just keep showing up.

At school the next day, Riley caught my eye across the cafeteria. I didn't look away. The bear in Montana didn't look away from things either.

"Hey," I said, sliding into the seat across from her. "Those vitamins you threw yesterday? They're actually pretty good."