Orange Peels & Second Chances

The bull in the school's logo stared down at me like it knew I was about to crash. I'd been running for weeks—morning practices, evening laps, everything Coach Miller said would turn me into a track star. But my legs felt like lead, and my lungs burned like I'd swallowed fire.

"You good, Chavez?" Maya called from the sidelines, her orange jersey bright against the gray track. She was the kind of effortless popular that made my stomach twist.

"Yeah," I wheezed. "Just need my vitamin D supplement."

She laughed. Actual laughed. My face burned hotter than my legs.

That's when Luna appeared. Luna, who wore oversized hoodies and spent lunch reading behind the bleachers. Luna, who I'd literally never spoken to before. She was walking her dog—a chaotic golden retriever mix that was currently losing its mind over something near the concession stand.

"Bear! No!" Luna yelled, but it was too late. The dog bolted, knocking over a freshman's backpack. Oranges rolled everywhere like radioactive bouncy balls.

I should've kept running. Should've ignored it. But something made me stop.

"I got him," I said, lunging for the dog's leash.

Bear immediately decided I was his new best friend, jumping up and knocking me flat on my ass. Maya and her friends were definitely watching. This was it. Social suicide.

But Luna didn't even look at them. She just rushed over, breathless. "Oh my god, I'm so sorry. Are you okay?"

Her eyes were huge and worried, and somehow she didn't look like the weird hoodied girl anymore. She looked like someone who actually gave a damn.

"Yeah," I said, sitting up. Bear immediately flopped onto my lap. "Your dog just has good taste in people."

Luna laughed, and it sounded like actual music, not the fake stuff Maya's clique did. "He's usually not like this. Well, actually, he's always like this."

We spent the next ten minutes gathering escaped oranges while Bear "helped" by eating one. Maya and her friends got bored and left. And when Luna handed me the last orange, our fingers brushed, and something weird happened—my stomach did that flip thing, but not in a bad way.

"Thanks for the assist," she said. "I'm Luna, by the way."

"Cameron."

"Well, Cameron." She smiled, and it was this tiny, genuine thing that made something in my chest expand. "Bear thinks you're cool. Bear's an excellent judge of character."

I looked at the bull on the school wall, then back at her. Maybe I didn't need to be track star. Maybe I just needed to stop running in circles.

"Hey," I said. "You wanna get an orange? You know, one that hasn't been on the ground?"

Luna grinned. "I'd like that."

The bull didn't look so judgmental anymore.