The Bear in the Deep End

Bear—that's what everyone called Marcus, ever since seventh grade when he showed up to school in that oversized bear hoodie from the thrift store and refused to take it off even though it was eighty-five degrees—stood at the edge of Jessica Chen's backyard pool, palms sweating so bad he had to wipe them on his cargo shorts like three times.

It was the pool party. The one that determined your entire social standing for sophomore year. And Bear? Bear didn't swim. Bear had successfully avoided any body of water deeper than a bathtub for fourteen consecutive years.

"You coming in or what?" Tyler called from the deep end, doing some fancy flip thing that made water splash everywhere. Tyler, who was on varsity swim team and had abs and thought "no cap" was still a cool thing to say.

"Yeah," Bear said, his voice cracking. "Yeah, I'm—I'm good."

"Bro, it's August," said Jessica, appearing beside him with a pineapple soda. "You're literally dripping sweat."

Bear's palms were so slippery he could barely hold his phone. Not that he was checking it. Obviously.

"I'm just," Bear started. "I'm just vibing."

"You've been 'vibing' for two hours," Jessica said, but she was smiling. She had this smile that made Bear's stomach do actual gymnastics. "The water's not that deep, you know. If you get scared, just stand up."

"I'm not scared," Bear said, way too fast.

"Cool." Jessica tilted her head. "Then come swimming with me."

She held out her hand.

Bear's entire life flashed before his eyes. Mostly it was just him avoiding pools and crushes and anything remotely scary.

"I've got you," Tyler yelled from the water. "Just jump! I promise I won't let you drown, Bear!"

Bear looked at Jessica's hand. At the water glinting in the afternoon sun. At the palm tree fronds swaying over the patio, casting shadows that looked like they were beckoning him forward.

Bear took Jessica's hand. Her palm was soft and cool and steady.

"On three?" she said.

"One," Bear whispered.

"Two," said Jessica.

"Three," said Bear, and he jumped.

The water hit him like ice and adrenaline all at once. For one second he was sinking, the world muffled and blue and terrifying. Then Tyler's hands were under his arms, hauling him up, and Bear broke the surface, gasping, while everyone screamed and cheered like he'd just won Olympic gold.

"BEAR ACTUALLY SWAM!" Tyler hollered.

Bear wiped water from his eyes, laughing so hard his stomach hurt. Jessica was still holding his hand above the water, her fingers interlaced with his, and she was grinning like he'd just done something incredibly brave instead of something regular fourteen-year-olds did without thinking twice.

"See?" she said. "Not so bad."

"Yeah," Bear said, treading water beside her, his palms finally dry for the first time all afternoon. "Yeah, I guess not."

But really, he was thinking about how his bear hoodie was still folded on the patio chair, how he'd jumped into a pool, how he was holding hands with Jessica Chen, and how some things—maybe the scary things, maybe the impossible things—were worth the fear.

Besides, he'd always be Bear. But maybe now, Bear could swim too.