The Truth in My Palm

I'd been running from the truth all summer. Literally running—cross-country practice at 6 AM, legs burning, lungs screaming, anything to drown out the noise in my head.

"You're being such a spy," Chloe had rolled her eyes yesterday when she caught me watching Jayden's Instagram stories for the third time that hour. "Just DM him already."

Easy for her to say. Chloe was the kind of girl who could walk up to anyone at a party like she owned the place. Meanwhile, I was the girl who oncehid in a bathroom for forty minutes because someone said hi and my brain short-circuited.

Now I was at Maya's end-of-summer bash, standing by the water, nursing a lukewarm soda. The pool glowed blue and unreal in the twilight, and palm trees cast long shadows across the backyard. Everyone seemed to know exactly what to do with their hands, their laughs, their lives.

Then I saw it—Jayden's old teddy bear. The one with the missing ear that he'd brought to kindergarten every day. The one he'd definitely burned or buried by now, except there it was, sitting on a shelf like it belonged.

"Creepy, right?" Jayden was suddenly beside me, close enough that I could see the freckles on his nose. "My grandma found it in storage. I was gonna donate it, but..."

"You kept it," I finished, surprised by my own voice. "That's actually kind of sweet."

He shrugged, looking down at his feet. "Yeah, well. Don't tell anyone. I have a reputation."

"Your secret's safe with me," I said. And then, because sometimes your mouth just goes rogue, I added, "Hey, you wanna get out of here? There's this spot by the—"

"Yes," he said, before I could even finish. His eyes found mine, and something unclenched in my chest. "Yes, absolutely."

We walked away from the party, away from the water and the noise and the perfect people with their perfect lives. And for the first time all summer, I wasn't running from anything. I was just walking toward something real.