The Night I Became a Bear

The vitamin C gummy sat on my tongue like accusation. Mom had pressed it into my palm before I left, her eyes saying *please don't be weird tonight*, which, honestly, cursed energy.

"You're not gonna take it?" Maya asked from the driver's seat. She'd already cranked the playlist to pre-game levels. "It's a party, Leo. Not dental surgery."

"My mom thinks my immune system is fragile," I muttered, swallowing it dry. It tasted like artificial orange and parental concern.

We pulled up to Jake's house—windows already vibrating with bass, someone's shoe on the lawn—and my stomach did that thing where it forgets how to stomach. First party of junior year. Zero room for error.

I'd spent forty-five minutes on my hair before giving up and throwing on my lucky beanie. The hat was basically security at this point. Take it off, and Leo vanished—replaced by someone who said "awesome sauce" unironically and didn't know how to stand near people.

The front door opened before we knocked. Jake stood there, grinning like he'd already won something. "Perfect timing. Emergency."

"What?" Maya asked.

"Matt's sick. Like, *actually* sick. And he was supposed to be the bear."

The what now.

"Our mascot costume?" Jake gestured toward the garage, where a brown fuzzy nightmare hung limply. "Homecoming game's tomorrow, and we need promo shots for Insta. Someone has to wear the suit."

"Absolutely not," I said.

"Dude, it's literally just fur and a head. You'll be a hero."

"No."

"I'll Venmo you forty bucks."

So that's how I ended up trapped inside a polyester bear, suffocating gently while Maya and her friends posed like Instagram models, making heart hands at my fuzzy face. I felt like a zombie—that specific post-finals week zombie where you've forgotten what the sun looks like and your entire personality is *I'm fine*.

Then lightning cracked the sky.

Everyone shrieked. The porch lights flickered. Rain suddenly bucketed down, and before I could waddle to safety, someone grabbed my paw.

"Run, bear!"

It was Chloe—actual Chloe, who sat behind me in AP Bio and had hair that made question marks appear in my brain. She pulled me into the garage, both of us dripping, me looking like a wet rug.

"That was chaos," she laughed, shaking rain from her arms. "You saved me, though. Bear emoji energy."

"Just doing my job," I said through the mesh mouth. My voice echoed weirdly.

She reached up and adjusted my bear ears. "You know, you're like, weirdly graceful for someone in a mascot costume."

"I've been told I have a calling."

"Do bears take vitamins?" she asked suddenly.

"What?"

"My mom's obsessed with them too. She thinks I'm gonna get scurvy if I don't take, like, twelve supplements a day." She pulled a bottle from her pocket—gummy vitamins, same brand as mine. "Want one? For, you know, bear health."

We stood there in the garage lightning flash, neon from the party pulsing through the doorway, sharing vitamin gummies like this was normal. Under the bear head, I was smiling like an idiot.

"I'm Leo," I said.

"Chloe." She popped another gummy. "Nice bear work, Leo."

"Likelihood of me taking this off? Zero percent."

She laughed. "Fair. Bears gotta bear."

Outside, the storm raged. Inside my polyester prison, something shifted—like lightning behind my ribs, bright and terrifying and absolutely worth it.