The Gummy Vitamin Incident

Maya's backpack hit the floor with a concerning crunch, followed immediately by the sound of a million tiny bears escaping their plastic prison. The neon-orange gummy vitamins scattered everywhere, rolling under cafeteria tables and across the linoleum like an infestation of radioactive insects.

"No no no," she whispered, dropping to her knees. Behind her, someone snorted.

"Is that... are those children's vitamins?"

Maya looked up to see Jordan—track team captain, person she'd been crushing on since September—standing there with that perfect lopsided grin. They were wearing their singlet from morning practice, which meant they'd probably been running six miles while Maya had been hiding in the bathroom avoiding her daily bear-shaped ritual.

"My mom buys them in bulk," Maya said, grabbing a gummy bear that had stopped near Jordan's shoe. "It's not—I don't—"

"I still take the Flintstone ones," Jordan said, dropping to help collect the escapees. "The strawberry ones actually slap."

Maya's face burned. This was it. This was how her social death arrived. Not via a humiliating TikTok or an accidental reply-all, but through actual vitamin-themed evidence that she was somehow still twelve.

"I'm running for student council," she blurted, because apparently she needed to add more embarrassment to the situation. "That's why I'm so stressed about everything lately."

Jordan paused, a handful of gummy bears suspended in mid-air. "Wait, really? That's actually sick. I was gonna vote for you anyway."

"You were?"

"Yeah, you're the only one who actually showed up to help clean up after homecoming." Jordan shrugged. "Plus, you're always so put together. It's kinda intimidating, honestly."

Maya laughed, surprised. "I'm literally currently collecting gummy vitamins off the cafeteria floor."

"Yeah, but you're doing it with dignity." Jordan grinned, standing up and offering a hand. "Hey, if it helps, I once cried in the locker room because I couldn't beat my fiveK time. Coach found me and brought me a juice box."

"Really?"

"Scouts' honor." Jordan's expression turned serious. "We've all got stuff, Maya. Even the people who look like they have everything figured out."

Maya stood, brushing off her knees. The last few gummy bears went back into the crushed bottle. somehow, this moment wasn't the catastrophe she'd imagined. It was just—real.

"Want one?" she asked, holding out the bottle.

Jordan considered it for approximately zero seconds. "Absolutely. I need all the help I can get before tomorrow's meet."

They walked to practice together, Jordan popping a neon bear into their mouth like it was the most normal thing in the world. And for the first time, Maya didn't feel like she was running from anything at all.