The Fox in the Mirror

Riley Simms caught her reflection in the bathroom mirror—fresh haircut, new hoodie, zero hesitation. This was it. sophomore year was going to be different. No more lurking in the background while kids like Jason Chen dominated every conversation.

Her phone buzzed. Group chat: @cafeteria squad.

jason_chen: who's tryna bounce after school? new boba spot downtown

Riley stared at the screen. Her thumbs hovered. This was her chance.

riley_simms: down.

First mistake.

The papaya smoothie hit her stomach like a brick. Across the table, Jason and his friends were deep in conversation about some party that weekend—like, actually important, life-changing stuff.

"So my cousin's cousin knows the DJ," Jason said, leaning back like he owned the place. "Said he'd put us on the list if we—"

Riley wasn't listening. Something was happening. Her skin flushed hot, her heart raced. The vitamin supplements she'd started taking that morning—supposed to help with focus, energy, literally everything—were definitely not doing their job.

She started laughing. Not a cute giggle. Full-on losing it.

Jason stared at her. "You good?"

"Bull," she choked out. "That's—bull." Her voice cracked. "You're so full of it."

The table went silent. Someone's straw froze mid-slurp.

Riley's face burned. She grabbed her backpack and bolted, leaving half a smoothie and her dignity behind.

Outside, wind hitting her face, her phone started blowing up. Notifications, DMs, everything. But she didn't look.

A fox darted across the parking lot—red fur flashing between parked cars, quick and clever and totally unbothered by who was watching. It paused, glanced back with eyes that seemed to say, *you see me, good. you don't, whatever.* Then it was gone.

Riley stood there, breathing in the cold air. Something shifted.

Her phone buzzed again.

jason_chen: lol you're actually funny tho

Back at the table, they weren't laughing at her anymore. They were waiting.

Riley Simms walked back in, chin up, hoodie zipped. This time, she didn't need to reinvent anything. The fox had already shown her how it was done—quick, clever, completely unapologetic.

She slid into her seat. "So," she said, "this DJ. He actually good, or is this more—"

Jason grinned. "Touché."

Riley smiled back. The smoothie didn't taste so bad after all.