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The PE teacher's whistle cut through the humid gym air. "Pair up for padel." I froze. Freshman year at Westwood High, and I still hadn't mastered the complex social algorithm of w...
I scrolled through my iPhone for the third time that morning, thumb moving on autopilot. Sixty-two notifications. Half of them were from group chats where everyone was talking but ...
I stood in front of my bathroom mirror, adjusting my grandpa's old fedora like I was some mysterious film protagonist. Freshman year was ending, and I was determined to reinvent my...
Marcus stood at the edge of the baseball field, watching the seniors huddled near home plate like they owned the place. That was the top of the pyramid—Varsity Jacket Row, everyone...
Maya's palms were sweating so bad she could practically wring them out like a sponge. This was it — Jake's party. The one everyone would be Snap-chatting about for weeks. She'd spe...
Maya had perfected the art of the cafeteria spy. Every day at lunch, she'd position herself near the windows, phone angled like she was just scrolling, while actually watching His ...
Marcus's neon orange cleats blazed against the dirt like a warning flare. He'd begged his mom for the custom color, anything to stand out at Riverdale High, but now they just felt ...
Maya's palms were sweating so bad she could practically water plants with them. She clutched the red solo cup like a lifeline, watching the party swirl around her in Jenna's baseme...
Maya's palms were sweating — like, actually dripping — which was gross and also exactly what happened every time Jake Parker looked in her direction. "You're literally spying on h...
Marcus pulled the beanie down until it nearly swallowed his eyebrows. For the third time this week, he'd used the bathroom mirror to practice taking it off—hat hair was the enemy o...
The orange soda can was sweating in my hand, leaving condensation rings on my cargo shorts. First house party of sophomore year, and I was already regretting the outfit choice. "Y...
My mom's vintage bucket hat sat low on my forehead, practically screaming *look at me, I'm trying too hard.* But it was my armor. Without it, I felt naked, exposed to the judgmenta...