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Jordan's hair was doing that thing again—flipping up at the back like a defiant question mark. He smoothed it down for the third time, but it sprang back, mocking him. "You look n...
The spinach smoothie sat on the counter, looking like something that had already been through one too many digestive systems. "Your dad made extra," Mom called from her yoga class,...
Maya's legs burned like she'd been running through flames instead of the dusty cross-country trail behind Jefferson High. Her phone buzzed in her pocket—probably another text from ...
The screen glare hit my retinas at 3:47 AM. Another tiktok. Another scroll. My thumb moved on autopilot, muscle memory from hundreds of nights like this. Finals week had turned me ...
Maya's green smoothie sat on the cafeteria table like a radioactive science experiment. She'd gone full health-nut over spring break, trading her usual Doritos for kale, spinach, a...
The chlorine smell hit me before I even walked through the gates. Another summer, another shift at Pineview Pool where I'd spend eight hours watching people have way more fun than ...
My hair looked like a rabid squirrel had attacked it. I'd spent forty-five minutes with the straightener, but the humidity had other plans. Now here I stood, outside Taylor's house...
I was literally **running** away from my problems—well, jogging, actually. At a solid 12-minute mile pace because I'm not trying to be heroic, just trying to clear my head before t...
Marcus adjusted his beat-up **hat** for the millionth time, the brim fraying at the edges just like his confidence. The hallway stretched ahead like a gauntlet, and somewhere in th...
Maya's hair was doing that weird frizzy thing it always did when the cafeteria smelled like something tropical. Papaya day. Great. She smoothed her ponytail for the tenth time, won...
The mechanical bull at Jake's party might as well have been a warning label: ENTER AT YOUR OWN RISK, LOSER. I watched from the kitchen, nursing my lukewarm soda while Jordan—my bes...
Maya's iPhone buzzed for the third time in five minutes, blowing up with texts from the group chat. But she couldn't answer. Not while holding a tray of spinach artichoke dip that ...