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Maya pulled her orange beanie down lower, practically disappearing into its wool embrace. In the cafeteria chaos, this hat was her armor—her personal invisibility cloak against the...
Maya's palms were literally dripping. Not cute-dewy-fresh-dew dripping, but like actual nervous-sweat dripping. She wiped them on her jeans—again—and smooth-then-messed her hair fo...
Maya's hands were literally shaking as she locked the bathroom door. The box promised "sunset orange" but looking in the mirror, she was seeing more "traffic cone realness." Still,...
Maya's plans for a glow-up epically backfired when the orange hair dye she bought from a sketchy website turned her hair the color of a traffic cone. She'd spent all of seventh yea...
I am officially dog. Not the animal. The verb. As in, I have been dog-tired, dog-paddling, and thoroughly dogged by life since June 1st. "Jordan, you're spacing out again!" Mia's ...
The chlorine hit me first—that sharp, chemical promise of summer. I adjusted my beat-up dad hat, pulling the brim low like I was some kind of deep undercover spy instead of just a ...
Maya pressed her back against the lockers, breath held. This was it — her moment to finally talk to him. Jake, the junior with the leather jacket and effortless smile, stood at his...
Maya's life had officially become a pyramid scheme of embarrassment. At the bottom: her ancient algebra grade. Middle layer: the fact that she'd just spilled a full blue slushie on...
Leo stood in front of his mirror, adjusting his new snapback hat at a careful angle. This was it—this was the summer he'd finally stop being That Quiet Kid and start being someone ...
The hair dye box said "midnight velvet." The mirror said "hot mess express." Maya stared at her reflection, hands trembling. She'd spent three hours attempting to reinvent herself...
My lucky trucker hat was practically part of my skull at this point. When you're fifteen and trying to survive freshman year without completely embarrassing yourself, you develop t...
Maya's palms were sweating. Like, actually sweating. She wiped them on her denim shorts for the third time, watching Crystal laugh with the popular kids by the beach bonfire. "You...