When the Bull Market Crashed

My entire net worth was flashing red on my iPhone screen at 2:47 AM on a Tuesday. $437.82—that's it. My crypto portfolio, which I'd been bragging about at lunch for weeks, had officially entered bear market territory. Again.

"You're still watching those fake internet coins?" Maya's voice made me jump. I hadn't even heard her come into the treehouse. She flopped down beside me, smelling like coconut shampoo and trouble. "It's called diversification, Maya. Not that you'd understand."

She rolled her eyes so hard I worried they might stick. "My dad says the whole thing's a bull trap. He literally works on Wall Street, Marcus."

I was about to deliver my prepared speech about decentralized finance and how old people just don't get it when a cable snapped somewhere below us. Then another. Then the unmistakable sound of something massive crashing through the woods toward the backyard.

We both scrambled to the window at the same time.

There, illuminated by the motion-sensor lights, was a black bear. An actual bear, standing next to our metal trash can like it was considering a career change to garbage connoisseur. It looked at the house, then at something else—something moving.

That's when I saw the bull. Our neighbor's prize-winning show bull, which apparently had escaped its enclosure, was now staring down the bear like it was ready to throw hooves.

"No way," Maya whispered, grabbing my arm. "This is literally insane."

"I'm livestreaming this," I said, already opening Instagram. My hands were shaking but my followers were gonna lose their minds.

The bear and bull circled each other in a standoff that felt like it lasted forever but was probably thirty seconds. The trash can lid fell. The bear flinched. The bull snorted. Then, in the most anticlimactic ending to anything ever, the bear just turned around and lumbered back into the woods. The bull stood there for another moment, then started eating someone's mom's petunias.

Maya looked at me. I looked at her. We both started laughing—like, actually crying laughing.

"Did you get it?" she asked between gasps.

I checked my iPhone. The stream had cut out right when the bear appeared. "Network error," I read aloud. "Failed to upload."

"Perfect." Maya rested her head on my shoulder. "Some stories are just for us anyway."

I put down my phone. The bear market could wait. Some things are more valuable than money.