Running with the Tide

The beach party was already popping when Jordan arrived, their stomach doing backflips. Everyone from sophomore year was there—laying out towels, bumping Spotify playlists, fake-laughing at jokes that weren't even funny. Jordan clutched their grandmother's old service dog harness. Barnaby, a golden retriever mix with one ear that flopped and one that stood at attention, nudged their hand.

"You got this," Jordan whispered, more to themselves than the dog.

Barnaby had been their grandma's eyes before she passed. Now he was Jordan's responsibility, though nobody at school knew about him. About the anxiety attacks that hit Jordan like waves. About how the dog's weight against their chest was the only thing that anchored them when everything felt like drowning.

"Yo Jordan! Finally made it!" Maya waved from near the water. She was in her element, surrounded by the popular crew, effortlessly gorgeous. Jordan had been lowkey crushing on her since seventh period English.

Jordan started toward them, heart pounding. Then it happened—the panic. The sensation of being underwater, unable to breathe. They spun around and started running away from the party, Barnaby trotting faithfully beside them.

They ran until their lungs burned, collapsing behind a dune. Barnaby rested his head on Jordan's knee, his warm brown eyes full of understanding.

"I'm such a loser," Jordan choked out.

"Who says?"

Jordan jumped. Maya stood there, sand between her toes, holding two sodas. "You disappeared fast. I thought you'd want company."

She sat beside them without asking, like it was the most natural thing. Like she hadn't just left the cool crowd to hang out by the dunes with the anxious kid and their old dog.

"Barnaby's your grandma's dog, right? I remember her from the grocery store. She was awesome."

Jordan's eyes widened. "You remember?"

"Yeah. She used to give me free cookies at the bakery. Told me I had 'artist hands' whatever that means." Maya cracked one soda open and handed it to Jordan. "Water's scary sometimes. But you don't have to dive in headfirst. You can just wade."

She nodded toward the ocean. "Want to walk by the water? Just you, me, and Barnaby?"

Jordan looked at the dog, who thumped his tail approvingly. For the first time all day, the tightness in their chest began to loosen. They stood up, and together, the three of them walked toward the waves, running with the tide instead of away from it.