Storm Chasers

Summer in the suburbs hit different when your parents forced you to get a "constructive" hobby. For me, that meant volunteering at Mrs. Chen's animal rescue — mainly wrangling her chaotic pack of foster dogs.

"You're literally doing amazing," Maya said, sliding onto the porch swing next to me. She had that effortless vibe, the kind where she could wear a trash bag and still look aesthetic.

I snorted. "Cleaning up dog poop is not amazing, bestie."

She laughed, and I felt that familiar flutter. We'd been lab partners since freshman year, but this summer something shifted. Like, my brain short-circuited whenever she looked at me too long.

The weather app had been screaming about storms all day. Already the sky looked bruised, purple and angry clouds swallowing the sun. The air tasted metallic.

"We should probably head inside," I said, watching her rescue's Great Pyrenees mix, Bear, staring at the horizon.

Lightning cracked — white-hot spiderwebs across the sky. Bear lost it. The hundred-pound dog tore toward the pond, absolutely booking it. I scrambled up, Maya right behind me.

"Bear! STOP!"

We were running full sprint through the tall grass that whipped against our legs. The pond was ahead, dark water churning in the wind. Bear stood at the edge, barking at something in the reeds.

Then I saw it. A baby bull, soaked and shivering, trapped in the mud. It must have escaped from the Henderson farm next door.

"No way," Maya breathed, grabbing my arm.

"Help me push?" I didn't wait for an answer.

Up to my knees in muck, shoulder against the terrified calf, I pushed with everything. Maya counted one, two, THREE — and with a wet sucking sound, the bull slid free. It scrambled up and bolted toward home.

We stood there, covered in pond water and mud, chests heaving. Rain started falling, huge drops.

Maya looked at me, really looked at me, and burst out laughing. "You look ridiculous."

"So do you," I said, and she did. Hair plastered to her face, mud streaked on both cheeks. Still gorgeous though.

"Good save today," she said quietly.

"We make a pretty solid team."

"Yeah," she said, bumping my shoulder with hers. "Yeah, we do."

As we walked back in the rain, I thought maybe forced hobbies weren't so bad after all.