The Bear in the DMs

Maya's thumb hovered over the unfriend button. Again.

Her former best friend Sarah had been acting weird all week—ghosting texts, leaving Maya on read, yet posting Instagram stories like everything was chill. Maya knew she shouldn't look, but curiosity was her fatal flaw. She'd been lowkey spying on Sarah's socials for days, refreshing every few hours like a pathetic loser.

"Just ask her what's up," her older sister had said when she caught Maya doom-scrolling at 2 AM. "Communication is key."

Easy for her to say. She wasn't the one whose friend group had splintered into awkward silence since Sarah started hanging with the popular crowd.

Then came the TikTok that changed everything. Maya's phone buzzed—Sarah had posted. The thumbnail showed something fuzzy brown lumbering through someone's backyard. A bear?

Maya pressed play. The video was shaky, obviously filmed in panic. "OH MY GOD THERE'S A LITERAL BEAR IN MY YARD," the caption screamed. The bear knocked over trash cans, investigating leftovers like it owned the suburbs.

But that wasn't what made Maya's stomach drop.

The timestamp was from two days ago. Sarah had been dealing with a legit wildlife situation and hadn't told her? They'd made a pact in seventh grade after watching way too many horror movies: if anything scary happened, they'd tell each other immediately. Ghosts. Creepy neighbors. Actual bears breaking and entering.

Maya stared at the screen. Sarah had commented "LMFAO I'M DYING" on her own post. She was fine. She was fine without Maya.

Her phone lit up with a DM. From Sarah.

"Hey. Can you come over?"

Maya's fingers moved before her brain could catch up. "Why?"

"The bear came back."

Maya paused. Sarah could've asked any of her new friends. The ones who sat at the good lunch table. The ones whose lives seemed Instagram-perfect. But she'd asked Maya.

"On my way."

Outside Sarah's house, police cars flashed red and blue against the twilight. An officer interviewed Sarah's mom while Sarah stood apart, looking small in her oversized hoodie. When she spotted Maya, her shoulders dropped.

"I didn't know who else to call," Sarah whispered. "You're the only one who'd understand why I'm freaking out. Remember that time we got lost in the woods and thought we heard a bear?"

"You thought you heard a bear," Maya corrected. "I knew it was just your stomach growling."

Sarah cracked a smile. "Fair."

They stood together as the bear—actually a bear cub, the officer explained—wandered back toward the tree line. Not a threat. Just a lost baby looking for its mom.

"I'm sorry I've been distant," Sarah said as the police cars drove away. "The popular kids are... they're not really my friends. Not like you."

Maya had been ready with a speech about loyalty and real friendship, but hearing Sarah say it first made something loosen in her chest. Being the person someone calls when things get scary—whether it's actual bears or just the metaphorical kind of high school drama—that mattered more than being cool.

"Next time," Maya said, "text me immediately. Bear or no bear."

"Deal." Sarah pulled her into a hug that felt like coming home. "Also, I know you've been spying on my Instagram."

Maya froze. "What?"

"I can see who views my stories, genius." Sarah grinned. "I'm glad you still care enough to stalk me."

Maya rolled her eyes but smiled back. "Shut up."

Some friendships could bear the weight of secrets. This one, apparently, could even survive literal bears.