Bull in the Cafeteria

Jordan's stomach did backflips as he stared at the massive double doors of Northwood High. The mascot painted above them—a fierce charging bull—seemed to mock his already frayed nerves. Today was tryout day for the basketball team, and everyone said Coach Taylor ran practices like a bear waking up from hibernation: hungry, grumpy, and absolutely terrifying.

"You've got this, bro," Marcus said, clapping him on the shoulder. They stood in the cafeteria line, surrounded by the chaos of lunch period. The air smelled like pizza and anxiety.

Jordan nodded, trying to look confident. His mom had packed his lunch that morning, insisting that the baby spinach leaves and vitamin gummies would give him "energy for tryouts." Meanwhile, everyone else was stuffing their faces with chips and whatever the mystery meat was today. He felt like such a dork.

At their table, Chelsea was already deep into one of her stories. "So I was at the pet store, right? And I'm staring at this goldfish that keeps swimming to the front of the tank every time someone walks past. Like, it was genuinely obsessed with getting attention. And I'm thinking—what if that's us? What if we're all just swimming to the front of whatever tank we're in, hoping someone notices?"

"That's deep, Chels," Marcus said around a mouthful of sandwich. "Also, Jordan's about to have a panic attack about tryouts."

The table went quiet. Jordan's face burned. This was it—the moment everyone would realize he didn't belong. The bull mascot in his head was charging, and he was frozen in place.

"Dude," Chelsea said, suddenly serious. "Remember what I said about the goldfish? Everyone's just swimming to the front. Even the scary people. Even Coach bear-mode Taylor. We're all just trying to get noticed."

Marcus snorted. "She's not wrong. Also, eat your spinach, man. Can't have you passing out at tryouts."

Jordan looked at his pathetic little container of leaves and thought about quitting before he even tried. But then he remembered what Chelsea said about the goldfish—how even the smallest fish still swam to the front.

He took a deep breath, actually ate some spinach, and stood up. "Let's do this."

The bull above the doors didn't seem so scary anymore. It was just a painted wall, and Jordan was ready to charge.