Goldfish in a Bear Suit

The social hierarchy at Kennedy High worked like a pyramid scheme: the popular kids at the top collected status while everyone else paid in dignity. I'd spent freshman year trying to climb it, but this summer, I'd finally stopped caring.

Which was ironic, considering I currently looked like a massive, fuzzy bear.

"You're gonna melt in there," Marcus warned as he adjusted his Party Planet staff cap.

"It's fine," I lied. The inside of this mascot suit already felt like a sauna. My job: stand outside the arcade, wave at families, and hand out goldfish in plastic bags to anyone who spent twenty bucks.

I'd taken the gig because it paid better than bussing tables and required zero human interaction. Or so I'd thought. But something weird happened when I put on the bear head. The oversized costume became a shield. I couldn't overthink. I couldn't second-guess. I just had to BE the bear.

So I danced. I did the robot. I fist-bumped toddlers. I posed for approximately eight thousand selfies.

And somewhere between the third and fourth hour, I realized I was having fun.

Then I saw Jordan.

Jordan, who sat at the popular table. Jordan, who I'd had a crush on since seventh grade. Jordan, who was walking toward me with a girl from cheer squad.

My heart hammered against my synthetic fur chest. The bear head felt suddenly suffocating. I could play it cool—do a little wave, maybe a spin—or I could absolutely humiliate myself.

The decision made itself.

I dropped into a full split, threw both arms in the air, and let out the most ridiculous bear growl I could muster.

Jordan stopped. Dead.

The cheer squad girl filmed it on her phone.

I wanted to die. I wanted to peel off this bear suit and never show my face at school again.

Then Jordan started laughing. Not mean laughing—genuine, doubled-over, shoulder-shaking laughing.

"That was legendary," they said when I finally waddled over, sweat dripping down my back.

"I felt like I had to commit," I said through the mesh mouth.

"Well, you definitely did." Jordan's eyes crinkled. "Hey, a bunch of us are going to the lake tomorrow. You should come."

"Really?"

"Yeah. As yourself, though. No offense to the bear."

I watched them walk away, grinning so hard my face hurt. The pyramid scheme of high school still existed. But for the first time, I wasn't trying to climb it. I was too busy dancing like a bear in a parking lot, completely unembarrassed, handing out goldfish to anyone who wanted one.

And apparently, that was the secret all along.