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Maya's stomach did backflips as she stared at the lunch table hierarchy—basically a social pyramid she'd been climbing since seventh grade. At the top sat Jordan, wearing that neon...
Maya gripped the brim of her bucket hat like it was a lifeline. The sunscreen-sticky air of Johnson's pool party pressed in on her, and somewhere inside, her stomach did that thing...
Maya's summer was supposed to be about staying in her lane—literally. As a varsity swimmer and cross-country runner, she had her routine dialed in. Practice, protein shakes, repeat...
Maya's fingers hovered over the send button. The pyramid scheme sat on her screen—MetraGreens, another MLM her former best friend Sierra had messaged her about at 2 AM. "Own your o...
Maya had perfected the art of being invisible. cafeteria table near the trash cans, earbuds in, eyes down. The perfect background character in a movie where someone else played the...
My hair was supposed to be sunset orange. Instead, it looked like a traffic cone exploded on my head. "You look like you're about to direct airplanes," Leo said, leaning against t...
Maya adjusted the brim of her dad's oversized trucker hat, pulling it low over her forehead. Pool parties were basically social minefields, and this one was no exception. She'd spe...
The multilevel marketing meeting smelled like desperation and cheap vanilla candles. I sat there zoning out while Jenna went off about how we could all be making six figures by gra...
Maya tugged the brim of her black beanie lower, suddenly hyper-aware that it was the third day in a row she'd worn the same hat to school. It was her armor—literally and figurative...
Maya's palms were sweating so bad she could practically water-ski on her hands. Welcome to freshman year, where your body betrays you at the worst possible moments. She was practi...
Maya's palms wouldn't stop sweating. Three weeks into summer break, and she still hadn't texted him back. The message had been sitting there since the last day of school, glowing ...
Leo's palms were practically dripping as he stood backstage, the spotlight warming his skin like a fever. Spring Fling. Junior year. The night everything was supposed to change, an...