The Midnight Fox

Summer after sophomore year, when everything felt like it was about to change but nothing had yet. I was at the community **pool** with Marcus—okay, mostly watching Marcus from behind my sunglasses because his **hair** curled perfectly when it was wet from the laps and I was absolutely not normal about it.

We'd been best friends since the sandbox days, which was exactly the problem. The friend zone wasn't just where I lived; it was where I'd purchased a timeshare and installed window treatments.

"You coming in?" Marcus called, dripping pool water everywhere. He had that easy confidence I'd been faking since approximately forever.

"In a bit," I said, because admitting I'd rather watch him swim than actually swim felt like handing over my embarrassing diary on a silver platter.

That's when I saw the **fox**.

Orange-red and impossible, standing at the chain-link fence like it belonged there. Wild. Untamed. The kind of thing that didn't follow rules or play it safe or worry about ruining a decade-long friendship by saying something stupid.

Then it was gone—**running** toward the woods behind the rec center, tail flashing like a dare.

"Did you see that?" I asked, suddenly on my feet.

Marcus followed my gaze. "See what?"

"The fox. It was right there."

He shrugged. "Probably just a stray cat, Maya. You've been watching too many TikToks about urban wildlife again."

I could've let it go. Could've sat back down and spent the rest of the summer pretending everything was fine, just another **friend** in the long collection of people who didn't really see me.

Instead I grabbed my stuff. "Come on."

"What? Where?"

"To find it." I didn't wait for an answer.

We never did find that fox. But somewhere between the poison ivy and Marcus complaining about his brand-new Nikes, something shifted. The air felt different. Charged. Like the world had cracked open just a little.

"You know," Marcus said, out of breath and probably ruined, "you're kind of crazy sometimes."

"Yeah," I said, heart hammering like it knew something I didn't. "But you're still here."

He looked at me then—really looked at me, not through me, not past me. The fox was gone, but whatever it had started? That was just beginning.

"Yeah," he said softly. "I am."