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Maya's phone buzzed for the third time that hour. Another TikTok notification from Jordan—her ex-best friend who'd suddenly climbed the social pyramid at Northwood High this semest...
The red whistle hung around my neck like a neon sign announcing I was a total fraud. First day as a lifeguard at the community pool, and I was basically drowning in imposter syndro...
The glow of Jamie's laptop screen painted their bedroom orange as summer light bled through the blinds. Three months into sophomore year and they'd finally started going by 'Jamie'...
Maya stared at the bleachers, the aluminum scorching her thighs. Another Friday afternoon wasted watching baseball practice while Derek sat in the dugout, being all varsity and unt...
The pyramid of red Solo cups towered over Maya's garage workspace like a monument to teenage boredom. Twenty cups high, held together by duct tape and pure stubbornness—exactly lik...
My mom decided papaya was the new black. Our kitchen looked like a tropical fruit stand, and I'd catch her Googling "papaya recipes for teens" at 2 AM like she was planning a cover...
Lena's summer job as a lifeguard at the Pine Creek Pool was supposed to be chill. Mostly she sat in the high chair, blasting Taylor Swift through her earbuds, while attempting to l...
Maya's fingers flew across her iPhone screen, double-tapping, swiping - the familiar rhythm of her digital existence. Another lunch period spent hunched over her phone, feeling lik...
Maya's palms were literally sweating against her iPhone case as she hovered over the send button. The post had taken forty-five minutes to curate—perfect lighting, just the right a...
Maya's palms were sweating. Again. She gripped the cardboard edges of her history project—no, not a project. The social pyramid diagram that Mrs. Chen had assigned in groups. OF C...
Maya's hair was doing that thing again—the rebellious halo-frizz that happened whenever she actually tried to look good. She stood in front of her bathroom mirror, straightener in ...
The social pyramid at Lincoln High was absolute, and I was somewhere near the bottom—crushed under the weight of varsity jackets and perfect Instagram feeds. But tonight, that was ...