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Maya stared at her phone like it was a bomb about to detonate. The Instagram profile in question: @lucas_chen. Green checkmark verified. 2.4 million followers. This wasn't just som...
Maya's throat felt like sandpaper. The house party thumped with bass that vibrated through her sneakers, but she couldn't make herself move from the kitchen corner. She was suppose...
My hair was doing that thing again—half curled, half frizzed, like it couldn't decide between trying too hard and giving up completely. I smoothed another glob of gel through it an...
I never thought I'd be the type to obsess over my hair, but sophomore year hit different. My curls had become this uncontrollable mop that my mom called "character" while I called ...
Leo's palms were sweating. Literally sweating. "Dude, chill," Marcus whispered, elbowing him. "It's just a talent show. Not like you're actually predicting the future." But Leo W...
Marcus's pocket buzzed. Again. His iphone screen lit up with another Snapchat from the group chat — everyone at the field, waiting. He was supposed to be there fifteen minutes ago,...
The summer before sophomore year, I found myself standing at the edge of the padel court, gripping a borrowed racquet like my life depended on it. My neighbor Maya had talked me in...
The social pyramid at Northwood High was practically carved in stone. At the top? The varsity jocks and Instagram influencers. At the bottom? Everyone else desperately trying not t...
Maya had spent the first three weeks of freshman year studying the social pyramid of Northwood High like it was an actual exam. At the top: the varsity jacket crew. In the middle: ...
Maya's stomach did flip-flops as she stared at the invitation on her phone. Pool party at Jake's house. Saturday. 2-6 PM. The social pyramid at Northwood High was clear enough with...
The Friday night football game was supposed to be MY night. Finally gonna make varsity, finally gonna prove to everyone I wasn't just the quiet kid who sat in the back of pre-calc....
The orange hat sat on my nightstand, glowing like radioactive fallout. Mom had bought it—another attempt to fix me through accessories, alongside the vitamin D gummies she insisted...