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Maya's hair looked like a squirrel had died on her head. Three hours before sophomore spring formal, and the curling iron had betrayed her completely. "I look like a poodle electr...
My hat kept falling over my eyes as I adjusted the strap for the third time. Stupid target hat. Marcus said it looked cool, but Marcus says everything looks cool when he's trying t...
The pool party of the year. That's what Maya's Instagram story called it. Meanwhile, I was stuck at home with my brother's dog—a Golden Retriever named Max who had somehow gotten i...
The August humidity clung to everything — my shirt, my skateboard, my dignity. Running from Tyler's house after that text, my lungs burned like I'd swallowed fire. She'd posted a p...
Leo transferred to Northwood High three weeks into sophomore year, which meant he'd already missed the crucial friend-group formation window. He spent lunch pretending to be deeply...
Marcus stood in front of his mirror, adjusting the orange hoodie that made him look like a traffic cone. "You got this," he whispered, trying to hype himself up like the TikToks sa...
The orange hat was everything. It was my armor, my personality, my entire freshman year brand. Lucas swore it made me look like a traffic cone, but Maya said it was iconic. Iconic....
The coaxial **cable** dangled from my ceiling like a dead snake, another casualty of Mom's latest "minimalist phase" — which really just meant throwing away anything that wasn't ae...
The ball hit the wall with a satisfying thwack, ricocheting back at me. I swung my padel racket, missed entirely, and tripped over my own feet. "Dude, are you okay?" Maya asked fr...
Maya dragged herself through the cafeteria line, feeling like a total zombie after staying up until 3AM doomscrolling through her ex's Instagram. Third day of summer camp and she w...
The pool water shimmered like liquid diamonds, but I was too busy dying inside to appreciate it. I'd attempted to dye my hair platinum blonde last night—big mistake—and now it look...
Leo's palms were sweating. Again. He wiped them on his jeans for the third time, leaving dark streaks on the denim. "You good, bro?" Marcus whispered beside him. "You look like y...