Bulk Season

Chase popped the third vitamin gummy of the morning, trying not to gag at the artificial orange flavor. His sister Jordan had sworn these were the key to finally bulking up for football season, but two weeks in, Chase still looked like a scarecrow wearing shoulder pads.

"You're not actually gonna try out for linebacker, right?" Maya asked from her locker, not even looking up from her phone. "No offense, but you literally got knocked over by a breeze yesterday."

"Ha ha," Chase said, slamming his locker. "Watch me."

Bear—that was the only name anyone called him since sixth grade when he'd stumbled into the wrong cafeteria table—sat against the wall scrolling through TikToks. Bear wasn't actually big. He was just permanently chill, like nothing could ever touch him. Chase envied that.

"Tryouts are gonna eat you alive, man," Bear said, still scrolling. "Coach Davies doesn't mess around."

"I've been training," Chase lied.

The truth was he'd mostly been stress-eating and overanalyzing every text Sienna sent him. Speaking of—his phone buzzed. *You coming to Jordan's game tonight?*

Chase typed back: *Wouldn't miss it.*

When he got home, his dog Buster—a neurotic golden retriever with personal space issues—greeted him with his usual full-body wiggle of enthusiasm. Buster was the only living thing that didn't make Chase feel like he was constantly performing.

"At least someone's happy to see me," Chase said, scratching behind Buster's ears. He grabbed another vitamin from the counter. His mom appeared in the doorway, holding up the bottle.

"These expired six months ago, Chase. They're literally candy now."

"Whatever."

At Jordan's volleyball game, Chase found himself sandwiched between Bear and some sophomore he didn't know. The gym smelled like sweat and floor wax. When Jordan spiked the winning point, everyone jumped. Chase's legs tangled with the sophomore's, and they both nearly face-planted.

Bear laughed. "Smooth."

Chase's phone lit up in his pocket. *You looked like a baby deer learning to walk,* Sienna had texted.

He smiled. Then deleted the vitamin gummies from his Amazon cart.

"Whatever," he said again, but this time he meant it differently.

Buster was waiting by the door when Chase got home, doing his happy dance. Chase realized Bear had never tried out for football at all, and somehow that was okay. Maybe some things weren't about becoming something else—just owning whatever you already were.

He tossed a dog treat. Buster caught it mid-air like a pro.

"Alright, boy," Chase said. "Let's work on your game."