Bull Session

The problem with being fifteen is that every single thing feels like the most important thing that has ever happened in the history of the universe.

I stood in the middle of Tyler's basement, my heart doing that stupid fluttery thing it always did when Eva was within a fifty-foot radius. She was sitting on the couch, laughing at something Tyler's baseball friends were saying. Tyler, who had shoulders like a quarterback and hair that actually behaved. Tyler, who had somehow morphed from the kid who ate glue in kindergarten into the most popular guy at school.

"Hey, Leo!" Tyler called out. "We're doing a bull session. You in?"

A what session? My face heated up. I looked at Eva, hoping for some clue, but she was watching me with this tiny smile that made my stomach do actual gymnastics. The Mean Girls - okay, the "popular" girls, I'm trying to stop calling them that in my head - were watching too. Jordan, the queen of them all, was giving me this look that said exactly what she thought of my weird nervous energy.

I shrugged like it was nothing. "Maybe later."

Like I had anything else to do. Like I wasn't just standing there feeling like the world's biggest awkward turtle.

The next day at the park, I sat on the bench watching my little sister's swimming lesson. She was in the shallow end, splashing around with these other tiny humans while their parents sat in the shade, looking exhausted and proud. This stray cat - this orange tomcat with one ear and serious attitude - kept circling my backpack like it contained the secrets to the universe. Or food. Probably food.

My phone buzzed. Eva.

"Tyler's party Friday. U going?"

I stared at the screen like it was an alien artifact. Eva was texting me. About a party. That Tyler was having. Where she would be.

"Maybe" I typed back, then deleted it. Too cool.

"Idk" I typed, then deleted that too. Too uncool.

Finally: "Jordan gonna be there?"

Stupid. So stupid. Why did I care about Jordan? But Eva wrote back fast:

"Don't be a bear about it, Leo. Just come."

I didn't know what that meant either, but something about the way she'd written it - like she actually wanted me there - made me type "okay" before I could overthink it into oblivion.

So that's how I ended up at Tyler's house Friday night, standing in his kitchen while Jordan acted like she was doing me a huge favor by acknowledging my existence, while Eva - beautiful, confusing Eva - kept looking at me like I was something more than just the kid who'd once gotten his head stuck between the baseball backstop's bars.

And for the first time in my entire life, I didn't run away from it.

The problem with being fifteen is that every single thing feels like the most important thing. But sometimes, just sometimes, you start to figure out which things actually are.