Citrus Burnout

My hair was supposed to be sunset pink. That was the vision. The Pinterest board said it would give main character energy. Instead, after three hours of processing and my bathroom smelling like a chemical accident, I emerged looking like a traffic cone.

"It's... vibrant," Maya said, clearly struggling not to laugh. We sat cross-legged on my bedroom floor, surrounded by failed TikTok beauty hack remnants and way too many empty vitamin water bottles. "You could totally rock it. It's giving... extra."

I groaned and buried my face in my hands. "It's giving Cheeto. It's giving construction worker. It's giving 'I made a terrible life choice at 2 AM.'"

The next day at school, I wore my biggest hoodie, trying to disappear. But in third period, Jake—the actual Jake, who I'd been lowkey crushing on since September—sat next to me and said, "Nice hair. It's bold." He was smiling, though. Not weirded out.

My dog Buster had been the only good thing about the whole disaster. When I'd cried that first night, he'd just curled up next to me like my bright orange hair was completely normal. Dogs don't care about fitting in or who's sitting at which lunch table. They just want belly rubs and someone to throw the ball.

By Friday, I stopped hiding. I started joking about it. "Yeah, I'm embracing my citrus era," I told someone who asked. And the weird thing was, people actually seemed to like it better when I owned it.

Maya and I were sitting on my front porch that weekend, sharing those gross but somehow satisfying gummy vitamins that taste like artificial fruit, when she said, "You know, you're actually kind of pulling it off."

"It's growing on me," I admitted. "Like, metaphorically. And hopefully literally, so I can dye it again."

"Next time, let's just go to a salon," she said.

"Agreed. But maybe... keep the orange? Just for a bit."

I looked down at Buster, sleeping in a patch of sunlight. My hair was still ridiculous. But maybe that wasn't the worst thing in the world. Maybe ridiculous was better than invisible.