Running From The Truth

Maya's calves burned as she rounded the track, her sneakers slapping the rubber in a rhythmic *thud-thud-thud*. She'd been running for forty-five minutes straight—practically fleeing her own thoughts. Again.

"Yo, Maya! Coach is gonna kill you if you overtrain before regionals!" her best friend Jaya called from the sidelines.

*Coach wasn't the one she was avoiding.*

Maya slowed to a walk, chest heaving, and fished her phone from her gym bag. There it was: the Instagram story she'd been spy—um, *checking*—every five minutes. Noah had posted a pic of himself and Lexi at the party Maya hadn't been invited to. His arm around her shoulders. That effortless, golden-boy smile.

*"Bro, just literally stop,"* she muttered to herself. *"You're being embarrassing."*

But here's the thing: everyone knew Maya liked Noah. It was, like, *literally* the most obvious thing ever. She'd caught herself watching his stories way too many times. Her friends had side-eyed her hard when she'd "innocently" asked what his schedule was next semester.

The worst part? Noah was genuinely nice. Which was *so much worse* than if he were a jerk.

Maya sank onto the grass, phone dark in her hand. The sky was that perfect pink-purple of a California sunset, track lights flickering on around her. She'd been running from this feeling for months—this big, clumsy, unrequited crush that felt like carrying a bear on her back. A whole grizzly. Heavy and impossible to hide.

*"This is so cringe,"* she whispered.

But also... kind of beautiful?

Because wasn't this exactly what being sixteen was supposed to feel like? The awkwardness, the wanting, the not-knowing? The thrill and the stomach-dropping fear all tangled together like headphones in a pocket?

Her phone buzzed. Noah had tagged her in a new post: *"Missing my favorite track star at the party 🏃‍♀️💨"* with a candid he'd secretly snapped of her mid-sprint, hair wild, face fierce and focused.

Maya stared at it. Then she screenshot it. Then she screenshotted the screenshot.

*Okay. Maybe she wasn't totally invisible.*

The truth sat there, heavy and undeniable: she couldn't outrun this feeling, so she might as well learn to carry it. One step at a time.