The Art of Running Away

The text came at 11:47 PM: *party @ jess's. everyone's gonna be there.*

I stared at my phone, thumb hovering over the screen. Friday night of freshman year and this was it — the moment to either be someone or stay no one. My heart was doing this weird fluttery thing, like a **fox** caught in headlights, which was exactly how I felt. Small. Vulnerable. Ready to bolt.

"You going?" Maya asked from her desk. She was already in her favorite ripped jeans, applying lip gloss with surgical precision.

"I don't know," I said. "What if it's awkward? What if —"

"What if you **bear** witness to the most cringe moment of your life and survive anyway?" She rolled her eyes, but her reflection in the mirror softened. "Look, I'll be there. We'll do the quick scan, find the snacks, and bail if it sucks. Deal?"

Jess's house was already vibrating when we arrived. Music thumped through the walls, laughter spilled onto the lawn, and somewhere someone was shouting lyrics to a song I'd never heard. Inside, the air smelled like cheap body spray and something sweet — maybe the punch bowl nobody was touching.

And then I saw him.

Tyler. standing by the sliding glass door with his varsity jacket and that smile that made my stomach do actual gymnastics. He was deep in conversation with some juniors, gesturing like he'd known them forever. Of course Tyler would be here. Of course he'd already be **running** the room like he owned it. Meanwhile, I was pressed against the wall, trying to look casual instead of terrified.

"You're doing that thing," Maya whispered. "Where you psych yourself out before anything even happens."

"I'm not —"

"You totally are. Look, just go say hi. What's the worst that happens?"

"He laughs at me? I die of embarrassment? I transfer schools?"

Maya snorted. "Okay, drama queen. But seriously, what are you so afraid of?"

The question hung there. What *was* I afraid of? Not Tyler exactly, but what he represented — this whole other version of high school where people were confident and did things like talk to crushes at parties without having an internal crisis first.

Then I saw it happen: some sophomore accidentally bumped into a senior, sending red solo cup contents everywhere. For a second, the room went silent. I thought for sure it would be a **bull** in a china shop moment — total disaster, social execution.

Instead, the senior just laughed. "My bad, man. Let me help you clean that up."

And everyone moved on. Just like that.

Maya nudged me. "See? Not the end of the world."

Something in my chest loosened. Tyler was still by the door, but suddenly he wasn't this untouchable god anymore. He was just a guy at a party, probably nervous about something too. Maybe not about this — but something. Everyone was faking it till they made it. That was the secret nobody told you about high school.

I took a breath and pushed off the wall. "You coming?"

Maya grinned. "I'll be right behind you."

My steps felt lighter than they had all night. The music seemed different now — less overwhelming, more like something I could move to. I didn't know what would happen when I reached Tyler. Maybe we'd talk. Maybe it would be awkward. Maybe I'd say something weird and we'd both laugh about it later.

But I was done **running** away from moments that scared me. Tonight, I was running toward them.