The Fox at Midnight

I was running from Tyler's party because Maya actually showed up with another guy. My phone buzzed in my pocket—probably the group chat blowing up with everyone asking where I'd ghosted to. The October air cut through my hoodie, but I kept pushing, sneakers hitting the pavement in this rhythm that was somehow more honest than anything I'd said all night.

The old trail behind the rec center was empty, thank god. I slowed to catch my breath, lungs burning like I'd inhaled glass. My water bottle was empty, obviously, because I'd forgotten to fill it before making the most dramatic exit of my sophomore year. I leaned against the rusted fence, scrolling through Instagram and watching stories from the party I wasn't at anymore. Maya was dancing with some college guy. Cool. Awesome. Great.

That's when I saw it—a fox, sitting like twenty feet away, watching me with these eyes that looked way too intelligent for a wild animal. Its coat was this incredible orange-gold, like someone had painted it with the last light of sunset.

"You running from something too?" I whispered, feeling ridiculous for talking to wildlife.

The fox tilted its head, then trotted closer—not aggressive, just curious. It moved like it owned the place, zero hesitation, completely unbothered by the messy, awkward human having a mid-life crisis at fifteen.

I pulled out my phone to snap a pic because apparently I'm that person now. The fox sat there posing, tail wrapped around its paws, looking like it knew exactly what kind of creature it was and what it wanted from the world. Meanwhile, I couldn't even decide if I should text Maya or delete her number or just transfer schools and start over as someone who doesn't have panic attacks at house parties.

The fox's gaze held this unwavering confidence—like, this is who I am, deal with it. No apologies. No overthinking. Just being a fox, perfectly.

"You're kind of a mood," I admitted.

It yawned, showing tiny sharp teeth, then slipped into the woods without looking back. I watched it disappear, this flash of gold in the darkness, and something in my chest loosened. The fox didn't care about Maya or the party or my entire identity crisis. It was just out here living its best life.

I started running again, but slower this time. Not away from things, just toward whatever came next. The fox was somewhere out there being undeniably itself, and honestly? That was energy I could use.