Strike Three, Bear Free

Marcus's freshly borrowed backwards snapback was already slipping, but he refused to adjust it. Cool kids didn't fix their hats mid-conversation, especially not while talking to Tiana Nguyen, who was currently explaining why she'd missed his texts.

"My WiFi's been trash since the cable company "fixed" it last week," she said, leaning against the bleacher railing like she belonged there. Which she kind of did—captain of the debate team, first row in AP Bio, the kind of effortlessly intimidating that made Marcus's hands sweat.

"That sucks," Marcus managed, while mentally high-fiving himself for not stuttering. "You coming to the game Saturday?"

"Maybe." Her eyes flicked toward the field. "If my dad's not working." Then she laughed. "Your baseball cap is screaming, by the way."

Marcus's stomach dropped. "What?"

"The team logo on the side. It's not backwards. You're wearing it sideways." Tiana grinned, all teeth and zero mercy. "Very... original."

Before Marcus could process his dignity crumbling, his best friend Rashid came sprinting toward them, eyes wide.

"DUDE. You will NOT believe what just happened behind the concession stand."

"Rashid, I'm literally having a moment—" Marcus started, but Rashid wasn't having it.

"There's a BEAR. Like, an actual bear. It's eating the nachos."

Tiana straightened up. "For real?"

"Bro, I'm not making this up." Rashid grabbed Marcus's arm. "Security's losing their minds. People are livestreaming it."

The next ten minutes were chaos incarnate—huddled in the gym with half the school, emergency vehicles outside, whispers flying like nobody's business. Marcus ended up squashed between Tiana and a vending machine, both of them trying not to laugh as someone's obnoxious little brother kept shouting "I ain't afraid of no bear!" every time a teacher walked by.

"So," Tiana whispered, bumping his shoulder, "this is officially the weirdest first conversation we've ever had."

"First?" Marcus echoed, before he could stop himself.

She smirked. "I've been waiting for you to talk to me since September, Marcus. Your hat was just the excuse I needed to finally say hi."

Outside, a siren wailed. Inside, Marcus's phone buzzed—Rashid sending a blurry photo of a very confused-looking bear near the dumpster.

"Saturday's game," Tiana said, "you should save me a seat."

Marcus finally adjusted his hat. Forward, backward, sideways—didn't matter anymore. "Deal."

Somewhere outside, a bear was probably still figuring out how to open a Gatorade. Marcus figured they had that in common—both completely out of their depth, trying to figure out this whole survival thing one awkward moment at a time.