Bear Witness

The group chat blew up my iPhone with eleven notifications before I'd even brushed my teeth. "UR missing it," "Summer camp is LIT without u," and my favorite: "Victoria's being SO extra."

I tossed the phone onto my bunk. Victoria, my ex-best friend, was probably already taking over our friend group. Meanwhile, I was stuck at Camp Blackwood for three weeks—literally the opposite of everything my social life needed.

"Orientation hike in twenty!" shouted Skylar, our counselor with way too much energy.

I adjusted my oversized hoodie, my armor against making actual friends. The trail led straight to the lake, where they'd scheduled our first swimming assessment. I'd been on varsity swim team since freshman year, but nobody here knew that. I'd kept my head down, stayed invisible.

Then I saw it—a massive black bear emerge from the woods near the beach, maybe fifty yards away. Everyone froze. My phone buzzed in my pocket, notification reflex kicking in, but my hands stayed still. The bear dipped its massive head into the water, fishing for breakfast like it owned the place.

Some kids started running back toward the cabins. Not me. I stood there, mesmerized. This. This was real. Not some curated Instagram moment, not some performative friendship drama.

That night, I discovered the camp's stray cat, a scrawny calico with one ear that refused to stand up straight. She'd been living under the dining hall forever, surviving on scraps and camper sneak-treats. I called her Bear, because despite being tiny, she had zero fear. She'd swipe at anyone who got too close, fought raccoons twice her size for territory, and basically gave zero effs about anyone's opinion.

I realized I'd been trying to be everything Bear wasn't: people-pleasing, afraid to speak up, terrified of rocking the boat. Maybe that's why Victoria and I had grown apart. I'd been her sidekick, her echo, her validation source.

The next morning, I left my iPhone in my drawer and headed to the lake for optional swimming. When I dove in, slicing through the water, everything clicked. I wasn't running away from who I was anymore. I was swimming toward something real.

I came up for air, Bear watching from the shore like she approved. This summer might not be a total disaster after all.