Summer's Wild Card

Marcus pulled the grimy uniform **hat** down lower, trying to disappear into the concession stand counter. Three months of summer, and he'd somehow scored the lamest job at the community **pool** — serving lukewarm nachos while his friends lived their best lives on TikTok.

"Dude, fix the **cable** for the sound system again," called Jasmine, the head lifeguard. She was everything Marcus wasn't: confident, popular, and somehow making the neon red swimsuit look like high fashion.

Marcus sighed and knelt behind the DJ booth, wrestling with tangled wires. His mom had packed him a "healthy" lunch — **spinach** wrap that tasted like grass and despair. He'd spent twenty minutes in the bathroom checking his teeth, paranoid about green shreds ruining his already-zero chances with Jasmine.

Then everyone started screaming.

Not the fun kind. The oh-crap-what-is-that kind.

A massive black **bear** ambled out of the woods, drawn by the smell of popcorn and chlorine. Chaos erupted. People scattered, towels abandoned, phones forgotten.

Marcus's legs locked up. But then he saw Jasmine frozen near the deep end, phone clutched in her hand like she was about to livestream her own demise.

Something clicked. Marcus grabbed the pool's megaphone.

"YO! EVERYONE CLEAR THE GATE! MOVE IT!" His voice cracked but held. "JASMINE, BACK AWAY SLOWLY!"

The bear sniffed a abandoned floatie, looked bored, and lumbered back toward the trees. The collective exhale was audible.

Jasmine found him later, still shaking behind the concession stand.

"You were lowkey heroic," she said, actually looking at him for the first time all summer. "Most people would've panicked."

"Just doing my job," Marcus managed, though his heart was doing cartwheels.

"Hey," she said. "Some of us are hitting the beach tomorrow. You should come. No uniform required."

Marcus smiled, finally adjusting his hat with confidence instead of embarrassment. Maybe this summer wasn't going to be so lame after all.