The Bear in the Smoothie

Maya's summer was officially cooked before it even started.

"Drink up, sweetie!" her mom chirped, sliding a glass of sludge across the kitchen counter. It was the color of pond water and smelled like a lawn mower accident. "Fresh spinach, kale, apple—your body needs this!"

Maya side-eyed the green monstrosity. Her mom had gone full wellness warrior ever since Maya's older sister left for college, leaving Maya to navigate the wreckage of parental hyper-focus alone.

"I'll drink it later," Maya lied, grabbing her phone. Three notifications from the group chat.

*pool @ 2?*

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*i'll be there*

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*

*Maya?*

Her stomach did that thing it always did when she thought about seeing him—Ethan, who'd somehow gone from 'that quiet guy in chem' to 'the guy she couldn't stop thinking about' over spring break. They'd been texting for weeks. Nothing deep, just memes, random thoughts, the occasional late-night talk that made her heart rate do genuinely concerning things.

But then there was the whole *situation* with Sarah. Her former best friend turned ice queen since freshman year, when Sarah had decided to rebrand herself as popular and Maya hadn't gotten the memo. Now Sarah ran the friend group like it was her personal fiefdom, and Maya was just grateful to be allowed in the room.

The vitamin shop job had been Maya's escape—a place where nobody knew about middle school awkwardness or that time she'd cried in the bathroom during homecoming. Just her, the supplements, and Mrs. Chen, who'd given her the job despite knowing zero about her social capital.

"You're a good kid, Maya," Mrs. Chen had said during her interview, pressing a bottle of Vitamin D into her hand. "Don't let anyone tell you different."

Maya still kept that bottle on her nightstand.

Now her phone buzzed again. *Ethan:* *hey, r u going today?*

Her thumbs hovered. She could go, play it cool, pretend she wasn't lowkey terrified of saying something wrong in front of everyone. Or she could bail, claim headache, hide in her room watching Netflix until college felt less impossible and less like a distant planet where she'd have to restart everything from scratch.

"You're not drinking your spinach," her mom observed, not looking up from her phone.

Maya made eye contact with the smoothie. Made eye contact with herself in the window reflection—hair in a messy bun, old camp shirt, the permanent exhaustion of being sixteen and feeling like everyone else had gotten a manual she'd missed.

She picked up the glass. Chugged it. Tasted like sadness and leaves.

"I'm going to the pool," Maya announced, grabbing her bag. "Don't wait up."

Her mom's smile was surprised. "Have fun, bear!"

The childhood nickname made Maya flinch—her dad's thing, back when she was small and fierce and unafraid of everything. Before she learned that sometimes being brave meant showing up even when your hands shook.

The pool was chaos when she arrived—sunscreen smell, laughter overlapping laughter, someone's phone blasting music nobody actually liked. Sarah held court on a lounge chair like she'd been born there. Ethan stood by the deep end, shirtless, doing something with a volleyball that made Maya's brain short-circuit.

"You came!" He noticed her first. "Saved you a spot."

Sarah's expression flickered—something Maya couldn't read, something that almost looked like *respect*?

"Yeah," Maya said, finding her voice. "I'm here."

She dropped her bag. Maybe sixteen wasn't about having it figured out. Maybe it was about drinking the spinach smoothie anyway, showing up when you'd rather hide, and letting yourself be surprised by who actually saw you.

Ethan tossed her the volleyball. His smile was genuine.

"Teams?" he asked.

Maya caught it. "You're going down."