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Maya's palms were sweating — straight-up nasty — as she clutched the plastic **vitamin** bottle in her pocket like it was some magical elixir that could cure freshman awkwardness. ...
I was definitely not spying on Jake's Instagram stories. Okay, maybe I was. But can you blame me? The guy posted fire hoodie pics, and my thirsty self needed content. That's when I...
Marcus clutched the plastic bag containing Goldie, his emotional support goldfish, and cursed himself for agreeing to come to Tyler's party. The basement was packed, bodies pressed...
My mom made me start taking these disgusting orange **vitamin** gummies because apparently "your hair looks dead, Maya." Which, rude. But also... valid. My hair was basically straw...
Marcus stood by the **palm** tree, clutching his dad's old Cubs **hat** like a lifeline. The pool party raged around him - music bumping, girls in cute swimsuits, Jake from AP Bio ...
I feel like a zombie most days now. Sixth period AP Calc drags on forever, my brain frayed from four hours of sleep and the endless scroll of notifications I couldn't stop checking...
Fifteen and terrified of the country club pool party. Mom said I needed to "socialize more," which was parent-code for "you're weird and it's showing." So there I was, standing nea...
Maya's supposed best friend since kindergarten ghosted her three weeks before sophomore year started. No texts. No explanation. Just—gone like evaporated water. Now she stood behi...
Maya stood at the edge of the **pool**, chlorine stinging her nose, clutching her solo cup like it was a lifeline. Jake's end-of-summer bash raged around her—screaming sophomores d...
The cafeteria buzzed with Friday energy, but I was stuck in crisis mode. My best friend Lena was practically vibrating beside me, her phone clutched like a grenade. "He liked my s...
Maya stared at her reflection in the cafeteria mirror, fighting the urge to scream. Green stuff wedged between her front teeth like tiny emerald betrayals. Of course this would hap...
Maya had perfected the art of being invisible. Which was ironic, considering she always wore that beat-up denim bucket hat everywhere – her literal security blanket. She'd become a...