Running with Bears

Jesse's legs burned as he rounded the track for the third time, his breath coming in ragged gasps. Cross country practice had never been this brutal, but then again, Coach Miller had never watched them quite this intensely before.

"Pick it up, Garcia!" the coach barked from the sidelines. "State qualifiers don't walk!"

Jesse gritted his teeth. He was the only sophomore on varsity, and the senior captain, Marcus—the biggest **bull** Jesse had ever encountered—had made it clear he didn't belong. Marcus had been spreading rumors all week, calling Jesse "the coach's pet" and saying he'd only made the team because his uncle knew someone.

"Watch yourself, rookie," Marcus had muttered that morning, bumping Jesse's shoulder hard enough to make him spill Gatorade all over his jersey. "This isn't middle school anymore."

The worst part? Marcus was actually **running** faster than everyone else, making his hate feel somehow justified.

Jesse's phone buzzed in his pocket during a water break. It was Maya, the only person who understood why he'd pushed so hard to make varsity this year.

"You got this," her text read. "Don't let the haters get in your head. Remember what we talked about."

She was right. Jesse closed his eyes and pictured his older brother, Bear—so nicknamed because he'd once wrestled an actual black bear while camping (or at least, that's what the family legend said. In reality, he'd just scared it away by throwing his backpack). Bear had taught Jesse that the only way to prove yourself wasn't by talking smack, but by letting your actions speak louder.

"You gotta **bear** down when it matters most," Bear had told him before his first meet. "Nobody remembers who talked the biggest game. They remember who crossed the finish line first."

Jesse straightened up, shaking out his arms. Marcus was already at the starting line, smirking.

"Last chance to quit, rookie," Marcus called out.

Jesse didn't respond. He just set his feet, focused on the trail ahead, and waited for the whistle.

Three miles later, Jesse crossed the finish line three seconds ahead of Marcus. The senior's jaw dropped so hard it almost hit the ground.

"What the—" Marcus started, but Jesse was already walking away, pulling out his phone to text Maya the good news.

Some bulls you could outrun. Others, you just left in your dust.