When the Bull Breathes

Mia's orange hair frizzed in the humidity as she stood at the edge of the community pool, clutching her papaya smoothie like a lifeline. It was the summer before sophomore year, and she'd accidentally agreed to come to Jessica's party. Jessica, whose Instagram bio read "living my best life ✨" while Mia's still said "books and netflix lol."

She felt like a zombie after staying up until 3am overthinking whether to wear her old one-piece or risk the bikini she'd bought on impulse. Now, watching the popular crowd splash around, she regretted everything.

"Hey, you gonna swim or just guard that smoothie?" A voice behind her made her jump. It was Tyler—Jessica's ex, the one everyone called a bull for his toughness on the soccer field. Except up close, he didn't look tough. He looked like someone who missed easy shots.

"I'm good," Mia said, then hated herself immediately. Why couldn't she just be normal?

Tyler shrugged, sliding into the water beside her. "Your hair's cool, by the way. Looks like sunset."

Mia's pulse kicked up. "Thanks. It's... natural-ish."

"Right," he laughed, and she realized he was making fun of her gently, not meanly. "I'm Tyler. You're Mia from English, right? We did that group project together."

"Oh yeah. The Shakespeare one."

"Yeah. You carried us," he said. "I was basically a zombie that week. Nationals had me dead on my feet."

Mia blinked. The bull was admitting weakness?

"Want some papaya?" she heard herself say, thrusting the smoothie at him. "It's actually really good."

Tyler's eyebrows rose. "Papaya? Isn't that like, old people fruit?"

"Don't knock it till you try it."

He took a sip, made a face, then grinned. "Okay, I stand corrected. This hits different."

"Right?" Mia found herself smiling back.

"Hey," Jessica called from across the pool, "Tyler, truth or dare?"

Tyler looked at Mia, then at Jessica. "Pass," he said, and stayed where he was.

Later, when they finally got in the pool—smoothie forgotten on the edge—Mia realized something. Sometimes the people you thought were bulls were just people swimming through their own stuff. And sometimes zombies weren't the undead at all. They were just sixteen-year-olds who stayed up too late overthinking everything, waiting for someone to say, "Your hair looks like sunset."

The papaya smoothie sat melting in the sun, but Mia didn't care. She was too busy learning how to swim.