Running With Bears

Maya pulled her snap-brim hat lower, trying to disappear into the cafeteria noise. Her crush, Jordan, sat three tables away, laughing like they didn't have a care in the world. Maya's heart did that stupid fluttery thing it always did when Jordan was within a 50-foot radius.

"You're literally staring again," said Riley, sliding into the seat across from her. Riley's cat backpack with its smug little face stared Maya down. "Either talk to them or stop being a weirdo about it."

"I'm not being a weirdo," Maya protested. "I'm appreciating from a distance. It's called artistic observation."

"It's called being a chicken." Riley checked their phone. "Hey, speaking of, Jackson's party tonight. You going?"

Jackson's house. Where Jordan would definitely be. Where Maya would definitely freeze up and say something awkward, like that time she'd accidentally told the PE coach that his whistle sounded like a dying kettle.

Outside, the sky was that perfect golden-hour pink that made everything feel possible. Maya adjusted her hat and stood up. "Actually? Yeah. I think I am."

"Wait, really?" Riley's eyes went wide. "The same Maya who's been 'appreciating from a distance' for six months?"

"The bear minimum," Maya said, trying to sound more confident than she felt. "I'm done letting social anxiety bear down on me every time Jordan smiles at me. I'm going. I'm talking to them. I'm—"

"You're what?" Riley grinned.

"I'm running out of excuses." Maya grabbed her backpack, heart racing like she'd just finished a 5K. "And if I crash and burn? At least I'll have a story."

That night, Jordan opened the door and smiled at Maya like she was someone worth noticing. Maya's hat somehow felt like armor instead of a hiding place. The cat on Riley's backpack seemed to wink at her from across the room.

Cool parties weren't supposed to feel like this — like maybe, just maybe, the scary parts of growing up were actually the beginning of everything good.