Fox at the Party

Maya stood at the edge of the backyard party, nursing a flat soda and feeling like the most awkward person on Earth. She'd taken a vitamin earlier—her mom swore it helped with stress—but honestly, the only thing helping would be teleporting home to her goldfish, Bubbles, who never judged her for wearing the same hoodie three days in a row.

"Hey!" A voice practically shouted in her ear. Maya jumped, nearly spilling her drink. It was Riley, the one person she'd been actually excited to see. "You made it!"

"Yeah," Maya managed. "Just... needed a minute."

Riley's palm bumped against Maya's arm, warm and casual. Something in Maya's chest did that stupid flutter thing it always did around Riley. Which was ridiculous, because they were just friends, and Riley was definitely straight, and Maya was absolutely not going to have feelings about it.

"Wanna get out of here?" Riley asked. "My neighbor has this fox that keeps coming around, it's kinda weirdly cool."

"A fox?" Maya blinked. "In the suburbs?"

"Wild, right?" Riley grinned, all crooked teeth and mischief. "Come on."

They slipped out through the side gate, the party noise fading into crickets and distant laughter. The night air smelled like cut grass and something sweet. Riley led her to the edge of the woods behind their subdivision, where they crouched behind some overgrown bushes.

"There," Riley whispered, pointing.

A fox—a real, actual fox—sat in someone's backyard, ridiculously calm. Its fur looked like someone had painted fire onto an animal. It was beautiful and strange and somehow exactly what Maya needed.

"He comes every night," Riley murmured. "I think someone's feeding him."

They watched in silence as the fox stood, stretched, and loped off into the darkness.

"Thanks for showing me," Maya said softly.

Riley's hand found hers in the dark, palm to palm, fingers lacing together. "Anytime."

They sat there for what felt like forever and no time at all. Maya thought about her goldfish swimming in endless circles, about vitamins that couldn't fix real anxiety, about feeling like a fox—always watching, never quite part of things.

But Riley's hand was warm in hers, and the night was full of possibilities.

"Next time," Riley said, "maybe we skip the party entirely."

Maya smiled. "Yeah. Next time."