Goldfish and the Last Party

I felt like a **zombie** staggering through Maya's backyard party, three hours of sleep and AP history stress turning my brain into mush. The bass from the portable speakers thumped against my ribs, but honestly? I'd rather be home watching my **goldfish**, Bubbles, who had a more exciting social life than me.

"You good?" asked Tyler, appearing beside me with two solo cups. He had that annoying effortless cool thing going on— varsity jacket, perfectly messy hair, the kind of guy who could **run** for student body president and actually win.

"Fine," I lied, wiping my sweaty **palms** on my jeans. "Just... observing."

He laughed, and I noticed the way his eyes crinkled. "You're not the observing type, Luna. I've seen you in debate club. You **bear** down and go for the kill."

My face burned. He'd noticed me? In debate club? While I'd been busy staring at him across the cafeteria like a total creep?

Before I could respond, someone screamed. A literal **bear**—a black one, for real—emerged from the woods behind Maya's house. Chaos erupted. People scattered. Phones flashed everywhere, because of course teens would document a near-death experience for TikTok clout.

Tyler grabbed my hand. "Come on!"

We **ran**, crashing through someone's elaborately landscaped yard, vaulting over a garden gnome that looked vaguely judgmental. My heart hammered against my ribs, adrenaline flooding my veins like electricity. Behind us, the bear huffed, probably just as confused as we were.

We ended up behind a detached garage, chests heaving, pressed against each other in the cramped space. His hand was still in mine.

"That," Tyler breathed, "was the most terrifying thing that's ever happened to me."

"Same," I managed, then—because my brain had zero chill—"worse than presenting your debate finals?"

He burst out laughing, quieting quickly when the bear snuffled nearby. "Way worse. But... kinda better than it would've been alone."

The bear lumbered away. The party slowly regrouped, everyone comparing stories and checking for injuries. Maya's mom called animal control. Someone started the music again, because resilience is weird.

But later, when Tyler asked if I wanted to walk to the convenience store for snacks, I didn't feel like a zombie anymore. I felt like someone who'd held hands with the cute debate guy while outrunning a bear.

Bubbles the goldfish would be proud.