The Bear in My Backpack

The house party thumped against my ribs like a second heartbeat. I'd spent forty-five minutes in front of the mirror trying to look like I didn't care how I looked, and now I was hovering near the snack table like a socially awkward ghost.

"You good?" Maya appeared beside me, holding an orange soda that matched her hair. She'd dyed it last week because regular Maya was "so sophomore year."

"Fine," I lied. My backpack strap dug into my shoulder. Inside, Mr. Cuddles—my childhood bear—sat hidden because I'd promised myself I wouldn't need him anymore. But tonight felt huge and scary and I was seventeen, not seven, and the difference suddenly seemed negligible.

"You look like you're about to barf," Maya said. "Here." She pressed the soda into my hand. "Sugar always helps."

Then I saw him. Tyler. Bass player for Dead Like Yesterday, wearer of ripped black everything, the guy I'd been crushing on since October. He was across the room, laughing, head tilted back, and my stomach did something truly embarrassing.

My phone buzzed. A text from my mom: Your brother's binge-watching zombie movies again and won't go to sleep. I'm about to lose my mind.

I almost laughed. My little brother, eight years old and convinced the zombie apocalypse was coming. Meanwhile, I was at my first real party, heart pounding, carrying a stuffed bear in my bag, feeling like the zombie here—dead inside, walking through motions.

Tyler was walking toward me. My brain short-circuited.

"Hey," he said. "Aren't you in AP Chem?"

"Yeah," I squeaked. Then my backpack snagged on something—Maya's sweater, maybe—and the zipper failed. Mr. Cuddles tumbled out onto the kitchen floor.

Time stopped. The bear's glass eyes stared up at me, judgment incarnate.

Tyler looked down. Then back at me. And the weirdest thing happened—he smiled. Not mean. Just... gentle.

"I had a blanket I couldn't sleep without until I was twelve," he said. "My mom finally had to stage an intervention."

He knelt down and picked up Mr. Cuddles. Handed him back. "Classic choice."

"Thanks," I managed, face burning.

"Anyway," Tyler gestured toward the living room where someone had tangled all the charging cables into a chaotic mess. "We're about to play this game. Zombie tag? It's actually kind of fun. You in?"

My bear was back in my bag. Maya was grinning. Tyler was waiting for an answer.

"Yeah," I said, and it wasn't a lie this time. "Yeah, I'm in."

For the first time all night, I didn't feel like a zombie at all. I felt seventeen, and messy, and somehow, that was enough.