Vitamin Gummy Bear Apocalypse

The gummy bears weren't even real bears, obviously, but they might as well have been roaring in my stomach during third period. I'd been crushing on Jordan since literally the first week of freshman year, and my best friend, Kai, had convinced me that today—TODAY—was the day I'd finally ask them to the spring dance.

"You got this," Kai whispered, sliding a neon orange bottle across the lunch table. "Vitamin D for confidence. Or something. I stole them from my mom's cabinet."

"Bro, I'm literally going to throw up," I muttered, staring at Jordan's hoodie three tables away.

"Bear with me here," Kai said, grinning. "My cousin says vitamin deficiencies make you anxious. These are premium organic gummies."

I stared at the bottle. VITAMIN D3 GUMMY BEARS in cheerful letters. Because apparently my emotional support needed to come in fruit chew form.

That's when Jordan walked over.

My brain short-circuited. I fumbled the bottle. Gummy bears everywhere. Jordan stopped, stared at the orange and red bears scattered across the floor like a tiny, sugary massacre.

"Did you... bring vitamins to school?" Jordan asked, sounding weirdly delighted.

"My friend said they help with..." I started, face burning.

"Anxiety?" Jordan finished. Then they dropped their voice. "My therapist says I should take those too."

Wait.

Jordan sat down. Kai gave me this tiny thumbs-up from across the cafeteria, his face practically glowing. The three of us sat there talking about nothing and everything—about how school felt like performing, about how we both missed elementary school when things made sense, about how sometimes we just wanted to hibernate like actual bears.

"So," Jordan said eventually, twirling a gummy bear on their finger. "This dance thing. Everyone's making it such a big deal. But honestly?" They looked at me, really looked at me. "I'd rather just go with someone I can actually talk to."

My vitamin-deficient brain caught up. "Like... as friends?"

"Or whatever," Jordan said, shrugging but not looking away. "I mean, if my best friend theory is right, you're pretty cool."

Kai, from three tables away, dramatically pumped both fists in the air.

I didn't ask Jordan to the dance that day. But we did walk to class together. And I kept the vitamin gummy bears in my backpack—not because I needed them, but because they reminded me that sometimes the most terrifying things become the best stories, even if they're just about accidentally spilling candy everywhere and finding something real in the mess.