Summer of Signal Fires

The cable box had been dead for three days when Jax decided to start running. Again.

"Bro, it's literally ninety degrees out," Maya said from her porch, not looking up from her phone. "You're gonna pass out."

"Cross-country starts in August," Jax panted, wiping sweat from his forehead. "Coach said if I want varsity this year, I gotta build endurance. Can't be breathing heavy at the finish line like a total noob."

Maya finally looked up and smirked. "Pretty sure you're supposed to train in actual mornings, not peak heat index hours. But you do you, champ."

She was right, obviously. But Jax had reasons. Stupid, pointless reasons involving someone noticing him from behind, maybe. Reasons he'd never say out loud because that would be embarrassing.

They ended up at Miller's Pond anyway, because apparently everyone's summer eventually led there. The swimming hole where somehow the entire incoming sophomore class materialized like summoned NPCs.

Jax stood there in his swim trunks while everyone else was already in the water, laughing at some joke he'd missed, existing in that terrifying social ecosystem where one wrong move meant becoming schoolwide cringe material by September.

"YO! JAX!" someone yelled. "Bears in the woods!"

"What?"

"Bear sightings all summer," Tyler said, treading water. "My cousin's friend's brother saw one near Old Mill Road. Apparently it's been raiding trash cans and stuff. Lowkey scary but also kinda awesome, right?"

"Awesome until it eats you," Maya called out, splashing water in Tyler's direction.

They spent the next hour trading increasingly exaggerated bear stories until nobody could tell what was real. The bear allegedly ate seven chickens. The bear supposedly chased a mail truck. The bear was probably, definitely a large dog someone misidentified in their panic.

Later, walking home along the dirt path, Jax felt lighter. The run, the swimming, the bear that probably didn't exist—it was all just background noise to the actual thing happening. The gradual realization that everyone else was just as awkward about being fifteen as he was.

His phone buzzed. Cable company text: "Your service has been restored."

"Hey," he said, turning toward Maya. "Wanna come over? I think my WiFi finally works again. We could—I dunno—find out if there's actually a bear or if everyone's capping."

Maya grinned. "Bet. But if it's actually just a golden retriever, I'm never letting you live it down."