Bear the Weight

The pool stretched before me like a turquoise promise, but all I could think about was how much I wanted to disappear. Jackson's annual end-of-summer bash. Everyone who was anyone would be there. And me, the girl who'd spent the entire summer avoiding everyone because her family had imploded in spectacular fashion.

"You coming in or what?" Maya called from the edge, already dripping wet, her palm prints visible on the concrete where she'd pushed herself up. "The water's actually decent for once."

I clutched my towel tighter, my own palms sweating so much I could practically feel them sliding against the terrycloth. "Yeah. Just. Give me a minute."

The truth was, I couldn't stop thinking about last year. About how Jason had made fun of my family situation in front of half our grade. About how I'd spent weeks bearing all that weight alone, letting it crush me until I'd practically become a ghost in my own life.

But then someone jumped into the pool beside me, sending water cascading over my legs. I looked down to see this little kid—maybe seven years old—surfacing with a fierce scowl.

"My bear!" he wailed, pointing at something floating in the deep end. A stuffed bear, waterlogged and pathetic-looking.

Before I could even think about it, I dove in. The water shocked my system, cold and bright, and suddenly I was swimming toward this sad stuffed animal like it mattered. Like anything mattered besides this moment.

I grabbed the bear and surfaced to applause—from Maya, from the kid's grateful mom, even from Jason, who was watching from the patio with a look I couldn't quite read.

"Thanks," the kid said, clutching the dripping bear to his chest. "You're my hero."

Maya wrapped me in a hug right there in the water. "That was actually pretty epic, you know?"

I looked at my hands, my palms pruned from the water, and for the first time in months, I didn't feel like disappearing. I felt like maybe, just maybe, I could stop bearing everything alone.

"Yeah," I said, finally smiling. "Yeah, I think I do know."