Running from the Bull

My lungs burned like I'd inhaled fire as I sprinted down the alley behind school. Again. Tyler and his crew never got tired of making my life miserable, and I never got tired of running away. Pathetic, right?

I skidded to a stop behind the old abandoned warehouse, chest heaving. That's when I saw the dog. Some mutt with matted fur and one ear standing up like it had something to prove. He looked at me with eyes that said, "I know, kid. Me too."

"You running from something too?" I whispered, dropping to my knees.

The dog — let's call him Sphinx, because he looked like he knew secrets — limped over and nudged my hand with a wet nose. My throat tightened. Nobody at school knew I spent every weekend volunteering at the animal shelter. Nobody knew I cried over stray dogs more than my own problems.

"MARCUS!" Tyler's voice echoed. "Quit playing hide and seek, you little—"

I froze. Sphinx growled, standing his ground despite that bum leg. Something snapped in my chest. Maybe it was the way this beat-up dog had more courage than I'd ever had.

"What's your deal, Tyler?" I stood up, Sphinx beside me like some furry guardian angel. "You've been riding my ass since seventh grade. What did I ever do to you?"

Tyler blinked. Behind him, his goons shifted uncomfortably.

"I—" Tyler started, then stopped. "My dad says your people are ruining the country."

The silence stretched so long I could hear traffic three blocks away.

"Wow," I said. "That's the dumbest thing I've ever heard."

Tyler's face turned the color of bad cafeteria meat. His friends snickered.

"Whatever," he muttered, turning away. "Not worth it."

They left. Sphinx licked my hand.

"We did it, buddy," I whispered, my heart racing like I'd just finished a marathon. "We did it."

I walked home with a stray dog at my heels and something strange in my chest — like maybe, just maybe, I was done running forever.