The Bear Bash Incident

I felt like a straight-up zombie walking into Tyler's basement. Three straight nights of AP bio study sessions will do that to you. The bass from whatever trap song was playing thumped in my chest as I scanned the room, clutching my red solo cup like it was a lifeline.

I'd been lowkey spying on Maya's Instagram stories for weeks now, and tonight she was actually here. Wearing that oversized vintage band tee that made my heart do weird gymnastics every time I saw her. My palms were practically dripping – thank god for the cold condensation on my cup.

"Yo, Marcus!" Tyler materialized out of nowhere, already two drinks deep. "You made it!" He draped an arm around my shoulder like we were besties when we'd literally spoken once all semester. "Dude, check it out – we got a goldfish tank and everything. Very aesthetic, right?"

The poor goldfish was doing frantic laps in its bowl, looking about as comfortable as I felt. Meanwhile, someone had set up this giant stuffed bear in the corner – like, a full-on carnival prize situation – and people were taking selfies with it like it was a celebrity.

Then I saw her. Maya was by the snack table, laughing at something some guy in a varsity jacket said. My stomach did that thing where it simultaneously drops and twists. I'd spent half the semester lurking in the back of Mr. Harrison's English class, stealing glances when she wasn't looking, writing her name in the margins of my notebook like I was twelve.

The night wore on in a blur of too-loud music and awkward small talk. I somehow ended up in a circle playing truth or dare – seventh grade vibes, but whatever – when Maya's friend pointed at me.

"Truth or dare, hoodie guy?"

"Truth," I said, because I wasn't about to do something ridiculous in front of Maya.

"Who're you crushing on?" Her friend grinned like she already knew.

My face burned. Maya looked over, and our eyes actually met for like three seconds. I felt like a deer in headlights, but also like I might throw up and also possibly never wanted this moment to end.

I took a breath. "Honestly?" I said. "This girl in my English class. She's got this laugh – " I gestured vaguely " – and she wears these vintage band tees and she's brilliant. Like, scary smart."

Maya's friend's eyebrows went up. Maya just smiled. Actually smiled.

Later, as I was leaving, my phone buzzed. Unknown number: *This is Maya. Truth or dare guy from English? I think you have great taste in music. Just saying.*

I walked home feeling less like a zombie and more like someone who might actually be alive.