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Maya clutched her phone, the plastic case slick with sweat. Around her, the pool party raged—splash fights, laughter, boys showing off their cannonballs. She stayed firmly in her l...
Maya dragged herself through the school hallway, feeling like a total zombie after pulling an all-nighter for Mr. Henderson's bio exam. Her phone buzzed — probably Chloe checking i...
The humidity was already thick at Tyler's pool party, the kind of August afternoon that makes everything feel sticky and possible. I stood near the snack table, clutching my iPhone...
Maya's thumb hovered over the red record button, her iphone screen illuminating her bedroom in ghostly blue. Three hundred followers. Not exactly viral, but better than last month'...
Maya pressed her back against the cafeteria wall, phone hidden in her sleeve. Official mission: spy on the popular table. Unofficial mission: figure out how normal teenagers existe...
Maya's stomach did backflips as she laced up her sneakers. Her first hangout with Jason—not a date, she'd insisted to Chelsea three times, even though her bestie's eyebrow raise sa...
My palms were sweating so bad I could barely grip the cheap plastic cup of lukewarm soda. This was it—Jensen's legendary end-of-year pool party, and I was standing on the edge of e...
The baseball smacked into my glove with that perfect sound — the kind of echo that means you didn't even have to look. Marcus stood at home plate, bouncing on his toes like he used...
Maya's phone buzzed with another Instagram notification—her mom's wellness account posting about the importance of morning vitamin D supplements while doing yoga at sunset. Meanwhi...
The backward snap of my dad's old Braves hat felt like my only defense against the chaos of Jordan's pool party. Sixteen years old, and I was still the guy who brought a smoothie t...
I was totally zombified—like, actually not functioning after staying up until 3 AM scrolling through Kai's Instagram stories. So when Maya dragged me to Jordan's pool party, I was ...
The cable bill sat on the kitchen counter like a neon warning sign. PAST DUE it screamed in red letters, which was basically my mom's passive-aggressive way of telling me to get a ...