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Leo's black beanie was basically fused to his skull at this point. Freshman year at Northwood High, and he'd already figured out the universal law of social survival: keep your hea...
The humidity was already messing with my hair before I even stepped onto the patio. Jordan's pool party was in full swing — music thumping, people laughing, and there I was, hoveri...
The orange dusk light spilled across the baseball bleachers where I sat alone, again. My iphone buzzed in my pocket every thirty seconds like it was my only connection to the actua...
The country club's social pyramid was as rigid as the Egyptian ones we studied in World History, except instead of pharaohs you had exchange students whose parents owned actual isl...
Maya's summer job sucked. Literally. She spent eight hours a day crawling under houses, splicing fiber optic **cable** for the internet company while her friends were at the **pool...
Maya felt like a total zombie leaning against the kitchen island, the bass from Tyler's living room vibrating through her skeleton. First real high school party, and she was alread...
The pool party at Maya's house was supposed to be chill, but my stomach was doing backflips. I'd been crushing on Jordan since September, and tonight felt like make-or-break. My b...
Maya stared into her bathroom mirror, attempting to tame her rebellious curls into something resembling cute. The **hair** gel container was already half-empty, and her arms were g...
I wasn't supposed to be here. I was supposed to be at baseball tryouts, wearing my lucky jersey (even though it smelled like middle school desperation), fielding grounders like my ...
I activated goldfish protocols: act casual, swim along, forget nothing. The mission was clear—determine whether Tyler actually liked my best friend Chloe or if he was just being, y...
The social pyramid at Lincoln High was as rigid as it was cruel. Me? I was somewhere in the middle—visible enough to get picked last for dodgeball, invisible enough that nobody rem...
The locker room at the country club smelled like coconut sunscreen and expensive insecurity. Maya clutched her iPhone like a lifeline, thumb hovering over Chloe's Instagram story —...