Sweaty Palms, Secret Vitamins

Marcus's palms were sweating. Again.

He wiped them on his jeans—subtle, he hoped—and stared at his phone. Chloe hadn't replied in forty-seven minutes. The three little dots that meant she was typing had disappeared into the void, leaving him with nothing but his own spiraling thoughts and, yeah, the sweaty palms situation.

"You good?" asked Jay, sliding into the cafeteria seat across from him. Jay, whose hands never sweated, whose hair always looked like he'd just walked out of a salon, who could talk to girls like it was nothing.

"Chloe's not texting back," Marcus admitted, even though admitting it made it worse. Made it real.

Jay shrugged, already distracted. "Bro, she's probably just busy. Besides, her dog's sick or something. She posted about it."

Right. The dog. Some fluffy thing Marcus had seen in her Instagram stories—cute, in that way that made you feel like maybe you weren't quite enough. Not enough like her. Not enough like anyone.

That night, Marcus lay in bed scrolling through old messages. His mom knocked once and pushed the door open without waiting, holding out the little plastic organizer.

"Vitamins, sweetie. You've been forgetting."

"I'm fifteen, Mom. I can take my own vitamins."

"Then take them." She set the container on his nightstand. "You're growing. You need the nutrients."

He waited until she closed the door before sliding the drawer open and tucking the vitamins behind a stack of magazines he never read. He'd been doing it for months—pocketing them, then flushing them down the toilet when no one was watching.

It wasn't that he didn't want to grow. He did. But growing meant changing, and changing meant the person he was now—the one with the sweaty palms and the overthinking brain and the secret anxiety—would have to become something else first.

His phone buzzed. Chloe.

*Sorry!! Barnaby's at the vet. He's got pancreatic insufficiency or something?? Has to take like a million enzymes with every meal now. I'm a wreck lol*

Marcus stared at the message. Then, without thinking too hard, he typed back:

*That sucks. My mom's still on me about taking my vitamins. I literally hide them in my drawer.*

*NO WAY,* she replied. *I do that with my hair gummies. She thinks I'm using them but my hair's still a frizz ball.*

Marcus grinned, his palms suddenly dry.

*At least your dog doesn't have to take pills,* he typed.

*True. But he's a good boy. Unlike some people who skip their vitamins 😉*

Marcus flushed. Then he opened his nightstand drawer, fished out two vitamins, and swallowed them without water.

Some changes were worth making.