Sweaty Palms, Steel Nerves

Maya's palms were literally sweating through her denim skirt as she stood at the starting line. The whole cross country team was watching, and okay, maybe she was slightly regretting agreeing to run varsity as a freshman.

"You got this, Maya!" yelled Sam, her annoyingly perfect teammate who was basically running for fun while Maya was running for her entire self-worth.

The gun went off.

Maya bolted forward, her Nikes gripping the dirt path. First lap felt chill. Second lap, her lungs started that burning thing. But third lap—around the mile marker where the trail curved behind the old gym—that's when she saw it.

A bear. An actual freaking bear.

It was just standing there, like thirty feet away, looking at her with those deep brown eyes. Maya froze. Her brain short-circuited. Should she run? Scream? Play dead? The bear tilted its head, almost like it was confused why this tiny human was interrupting its chill afternoon.

Then it clicked—this wasn't a bear. It was the school mascot costume. Some senior was probably taking a smoke break behind the gym in the bear head.

"DUDE," Maya whispered, catching her breath against a tree. "You almost gave me a heart attack."

The bear-head guy shrugged. "My bad, little freshman."

Maya's palms were still sweaty, but suddenly she was laughing. Like, actually laughing. This whole time she'd been stressing about impressing everyone, and literally the only witness to her momentary terror was some random guy in a bear costume.

She finished the race in second-to-last place. Sam got first obviously. But when Maya crossed the finish line, she didn't feel like dying anymore. She just felt real.

"How was it?" Sam asked afterward, genuinely curious.

Maya looked at her palms, then at the trail behind the gym. "Let's just say I faced my fears. Literally."