Curveballs and Blue Hair

Maya's hair was supposed to be "subtle caramel highlights" but came out electric blue. Her mom had literally cried in the bathroom doorway, clutching her pearls like she was in a soap opera. Now Maya was stuck wearing a beanie in ninety-degree heat, dodging questions at school.

The goldfish situation wasn't helping. She'd won it at the carnival last week — a tragic little fish in a plastic bag that she'd named Fernando. Now Fernando was swimming in circles in a bowl on her dresser, judging her life choices.

"You're staring at me again, aren't you?" Maya said, dropping her backpack. Fernando just blew a bubble.

The real disaster started fifth period when Jake—the guy she'd been crushing on since before the hair incident—invited her to his baseball game. Actually invited. Texted her and everything: "Come watch? I'm pitching tonight."

Her friends had screamed. Literically screamed in the cafeteria.

But now Maya was crouched behind the bleachers, hyperventilating, because half the school was there and she was supposed to be at home studying for finals and not revealing her Smurf-colored hair to the entire student body.

Then she saw him.

Jake was warming up on the mound, his baseball cap backwards, lean arms winding up for the pitch. And he wasn't alone.

Some girl—a girl with perfect, normal-colored hair—was standing by the dugout, laughing at something Jake said. She touched his arm.

Maya's stomach dropped through her sneakers.

Without thinking, she started running. Not away, just running, past the concession stand, past the parking lot, until her lungs burned and her beanie flew off. The blue hair caught the wind like a flag, wild and completely exposed.

"Maya!"

She slowed down. Jake was jogging toward her, dirt on his uniform, breathless.

"I was looking for you," he said. "You weren't behind the bleachers."

He reached out, hesitated, then gently tugged a strand of her blue hair. "I like it. It's... brave."

Maya stared. "But that girl—"

"My cousin. She drove me here."

Oh.

"Fernando would be laughing at me right now," Maya muttered, her face burning.

"Fernando?"

"My goldfish. He's judgmental."

Jake laughed, and it was better than a carnival prize, better than hiding, better than being normal. "Want to sit with me on the bench? I can introduce you to my cousin. She has pink hair."

"Seriously?"

"Seriously. Hers is worse."

Maya grinned. For the first time since leaving the salon, she didn't reach for her beanie.