The Circuit Breaker

Marcus's legs burned as he rounded the third turn of the cross-country circuit, his phone heavy in his pocket like a guilty secret. The same notification had been buzzing for twenty minutes: *She said WHAT about you?* from Jasmine, three group chats ready to explode with drama he'd missed during third period AP Bio.

"You're full of **bull**, Jasmine," he muttered, though she couldn't hear him. They'd been best friends since seventh grade, but lately everything was a performance—Instagram stories, Snap streaks, curated posts about how #blessed their lives were. Marcus was tired of the hustle, tired of running this social circuit where everyone was always "fine" and nobody was ever okay.

His **iPhone** lit up again. *Tyler said you're scared to race him Saturday.* Typical Tyler—always trying to start something, always needing to be the main character. Marcus slowed to a jog, chest heaving, staring at the screen like it held answers it couldn't possibly give.

That's when he saw it: the new girl, Elena, sitting by the creek behind the school, not on her phone at all. Just reading an actual book with actual pages, like some kind of beautiful weirdo. She looked up, caught him staring, and smiled—not a curated smile, but a real one, crooked and confused.

"You coming to the meet?" she called out. "I heard you're pretty fast."

Marcus's face flushed hot. Faster than Tyler, definitely. Faster than the rumors could spread, hopefully. He jogged over, suddenly aware of how sweaty he was.

"Maybe," he said. "If I don't die first."

Elena laughed, and it sounded like actual happiness, not the performative stuff he heard all day at school. "My grandma says you need sunlight, you know? Like, actual **vitamin** D, not the fluorescent cafeteria lights." She patted the grass beside her. "Take a break, circuit guy."

Marcus stood there for a second, then sat. His phone buzzed in his pocket—a notification, probably another digital fire to put out—and he ignored it. For the first time in months, he wasn't running. Not from the drama, not from the expectations, not from himself.

"You know what?" he said, watching the water ripple in the creek. "I think I needed that."