Surviving Bear Creek

Seventeen-year-old Maya had been running on caffeine and anxiety for three days straight, existing in a total **zombie** state thanks to finals week, her part-time job at the smoothie shop, and somehow volunteering to plan the entire senior fundraising event. Her little brother Kai kept calling her "The Walking Dead" whenever she shuffled into the kitchen.

"You need actual food, not another iced coffee," their mom said, slamming a container of **spinach** salad in front of her. "And we're going camping this weekend. No arguments."

Bear Creek State Park wasn't exactly Maya's vibe. She'd much rather be doom-scrolling through her friends' perfect pool party pics while dying inside from FOMO. But there she was, dragging her feet through the forest while their golden retriever, Buster, darted between trees like a maniac.

"He thinks he's a **bear** or something," Maya muttered, watching Buster try to climb a log that was definitely too big for him.

Kai, annoying little brother that he was, had already fallen into the creek twice. The **water** was freezing cold, and he'd emerged shivering both times while their parents pretended not to laugh. Maya refused to get wet—that would require changing her outfit, and she only had three cute ones for the entire weekend.

Then came the disaster. Their family **dog**, Buster, spotted a squirrel and took off like a rocket, dragging poor Kai (who'd been holding the leash) face-first into a mud bank. Kai popped up covered in sludge, spinach somehow stuck to his forehead from lunch, while Buster proudly trotted back with a stick like nothing had happened.

Maya died. Actually died. But then Kai started laughing so hard he fell over again, and somehow Maya was cracking up too, makeup-free and exhausted and not caring that her phone had zero service. Being a zombie wasn't so bad when the company was this ridiculous.

"You know," Maya said, wiping mud off Kai's face, "this is actually better than looking at everyone's fake-perfect weekend photos." She took a bite of the spinach salad she'd been avoiding. "Fine, Mom. You win. Camping isn't totally terrible."