Three Miles to Human

Maya's legs burned like she'd been running through actual fire instead of just Mr. Henderson's evil hill repeats. Practice had been brutal—Coach was trying to kill them before sectionals, obviously. She leaned against the chain-link fence, chest heaving, waiting for Leo to appear.

"You look like a zombie," he said, falling into step beside her. "No offense."

"None taken," Maya managed, though her throat felt like she'd swallowed sandpaper. "I literally got four hours of sleep. AP Euro exam was today, remember?"

Leo nodded sympathetically. His curly hair was smashed flat on one side—classic post-practice hair. "Same. I wrote three entire paragraphs about Napoleon before realizing I was thinking of the wrong French Revolution."

Maya snorted. "Classic Leo energy."

Their usual spot behind the bleachers felt sacred somehow. This was where everything spilled out—the crushes, the family drama, the overwhelming pressure of being seventeen and expected to have your entire life figured out. Maya valued Leo's friendship more than she'd ever admit out loud. He just got it.

A golden retriever mix trotted over from the parking lot, tail going crazy like it had just won the lottery.

"Hey buddy," Leo said, dropping to his knees as the dog shoved its whole body against him. "Who's a good boy? You're a good boy. Yes you are."

The dog's tag read "Captain." Maya found herself smiling despite everything.

"I feel like him," she said quietly. "Just excited about everything, not worrying about grades or college or—"

"Or Jordan not texting back," Leo finished.

Maya's face heated up. "How did you know about that?"

"I'm your best friend, Maya. I know everything." Leo stood up, Captain nudging his hand for more pets. "Also, you posted about it on your story. At 2 AM. Which, again—zombie behavior."

Maya groaned. "I'm deleting that app. For real this time."

"You said that last week," Leo reminded her. "Look, Jordan's an idiot if they can't see how amazing you are. And if they don't text back, that's their loss. You're Maya. You literally carried the JV team to regionals last year. You're brilliant. You've got this."

Something shifted in her chest, warm and steady. Maybe she didn't have everything figured out. Maybe she was exhausted and stressed and confused about everything. But she had this—this friendship, this moment, this golden retriever who acted like she was his favorite person on earth.

"Thanks, Leo," she said softly.

"Anytime." He checked his phone. "Crap, my mom's here. You need a ride?"

Maya shook her head. "I'm good. Walking clears my head."

"Alright. See you tomorrow?" He headed toward the parking lot, Captain trotting happily after someone else now.

"See you tomorrow," she called back.

Maya walked home under a sky just starting to turn pink, finally feeling something like hope. Tomorrow would be better. It had to be.