The Bear in the Corner

Marcus's fingers hovered over his controller, the ethernet cable glowing green in the dim light of his bedroom. His phone buzzed again—another notification from the group chat. Everyone at Jordan's party. Everyone except him.

"You coming, bro?" the text read. "It's gonna be LIT."

Marcus stared at his wall, where Barnaby the bear sat on his shelf—this raggedy,orange teddy bear he'd had since he was four. The one he'd somehow never thrown away, even though he was fifteen now and supposedly too old for stuffed animals.

His stomach did that thing it always did when he thought about parties. The twisty, hollow feeling. Last time he'd tried to be social, he'd spent three hours in the bathroom scrolling through Reddit while people actually had fun outside.

But Maya was going to be there. Maya, who sat next to him in chemistry and always borrowed his orange highlighter and smiled like she actually meant it.

Marcus grabbed his hoodie. Barnaby seemed to judge him from the shelf.

The party was exactly what he expected—too loud, too many people, someone's older brother asking if anyone wanted to "vibe." Marcus stood near the snack table, clutching a cup of fruit punch like it was a lifeline. He should've stayed home. Should've queued up for ranked matches instead of subjecting himself to this.

"Hey!"

Maya appeared beside him, wearing this cropped orange sweatshirt that looked way better on her than anything would ever look on him. "You made it! I was hoping you'd come."

"Yeah," Marcus managed. "Just... you know. Wanted to."

"Cool." She grabbed an orange slice from the fruit platter. "So I hear you're really into gaming? Like, actually good?"

"I mean, yeah. I compete sometimes. Online tournaments."

"That's honestly sick. My cable's been messed up for weeks, so I can't even play properly." She leaned closer. "Hey, you want to get out of here? This party's kinda mid anyway."

They ended up sitting on her front porch, sharing an orange she'd swiped from the kitchen, talking about everything and nothing until 3 AM. Marcus told her about Barnaby—because apparently he was incapable of being cool for more than two hours—and she didn't even make fun of him. Instead she pulled out her phone and showed him pictures of HER childhood stuffed animal, this beat-up rabbit named Mister Whiskers.

"We're all just pretending to be grown up anyway," she said.

Marcus walked home with actual hope in his chest for the first time in forever. Maybe being yourself wasn't the worst strategy. Maybe the things that made you weird were just the things that made you real.

Barnaby was still waiting on the shelf when Marcus got back, watching with his plastic button eyes. Marcus picked him up, set him on his desk next to his monitor.

"Don't worry," he whispered. "I'm not too cool for you either."