Market Crash at the Food Court

The iphone buzzed in my pocket—third time this minute. I didn't need to check. It was Taylor, probably blowing up my spot about what happened at lunch.

"You gonna stare at the floor all day, or you gonna actually work?" Uncle Marcus stood over me, arms crossed. Behind him, three monitors flashed red and green—the bull market was eating everyone alive today, and apparently I was next on the menu.

"Sorry," I muttered, reaching for my phone. "Just—"

"Ah ah ah." He pointed at the landline on my desk. "No personal cells on the trading floor. House rules."

I groaned. This summer job was supposed to be easy—data entry, coffee runs, watching grown men yell at numbers. Instead, I'd become the company's resident bear mascot because I'd worn this stupid hoodie on day one. Now every time the market dipped, someone would yell, "Nice work, bear, you jinxed us again!"

Lame. But not as lame as what happened earlier.

I'd been crushing on Jordan since freshman year. Today at lunch, I finally worked up the nerve to sit across from them. Everything was going fine until I took out my orange, tried to peel it coolly, and somehow managed to squirt juice directly into Jordan's eye.

Like, DIRECTLY into their eye. They'd jumped back, knocked over their tray, and the entire cafeteria had watched me awkwardly try to help while their cat t-shirt—something about "cats are liquid"—got covered in chocolate milk.

"I hate it here," I whispered to myself.

"What was that?" Uncle Marcus asked.

"Nothing. Just thinking about... market trends."

"Good." He nodded at my screen. "Because we've got a situation.某 stock is tanking, and I need you to pull up the last quarter's earnings. Now."

I typed faster than I ever had in my life. This was it—my chance to actually contribute. To not be the bear mascot, the orange-assassin, the loser who couldn't even talk to their crush without causing a minor medical emergency.

The numbers loaded. My heart pounded. I found what he needed.

"Got it," I said, my voice cracking. "Right here."

Uncle Marcus leaned in, scanned the screen, then grinned. "Well I'll be. Nice work, kid."

The other traders started clapping. Someone shouted, "Finally! The bear breaks a winning streak!"

My phone buzzed again. I risked a glance.

From Taylor: Jordan says it was actually hilarious and wants your snap 😭

I smiled. Maybe today wasn't a total market crash after all.