Running with the Bull

The pool party at Tyler's house was supposed to be chill, but my anxiety was doing laps in my stomach. Everyone was already swimming—cannonballs and splashes and way too much skin for a Friday afternoon.

I stood by the back fence, clutching my towel like a security blanket, while Chad—the resident bull of our sophomore class—held court from the deep end. His bark was worse than his bite, but that wasn't saying much.

"Yo, Maya!" Chad called, already two sodas in. "You gonna stand there all day or actually get wet?"

My binder pressed tight against my ribs, a constant reminder of why I couldn't just jump in like everyone else. Some days, being trans felt like carrying around a secret that weighed exactly as much as a wet swimsuit.

"Maybe later," I mumbled, suddenly fascinated by a crack in the patio concrete.

Then something barrelled through the back gate.

A dog—a massive, chaos-fueled golden retriever—tackled Chad mid-taunt. The bull went under, thrashing and sputtering while the dog danced around the pool's edge, barking like it had just won the lottery.

"BUSTER!" Tyler's sister came running after him. "Oh my god, I'm so sorry!"

Chad resurfaced, dignity completely drowned, while everyone lost it. Even me. The sheer absurdity of it—the intimidation king taken down by a good boy named Buster—broke something loose in my chest.

I wasn't running from anything anymore.

"You know what?" I called out, kicking off my flips-flops. "I'm in."

I slid into the pool, binder and all. The water swallowed me whole, and for a second, I was just another person in the water. Not the trans kid. Not the anxious one. Just swimming.

When I came up for air, Chad was still toweling off, looking like a grumpy wet cat. Buster had collapsed on the deck, tongue out, totally unbothered.

"Nice entry," Tyler said, paddling over.

"Learned from the best," I said, jerking my chin at the dog.

That night, I texted my mom: Pool party = legendary. Also, can we get a dog?

Some days you run from yourself. Some days, a bull-chasing dog reminds you to just jump in.