Electric

Maya's blue hair was supposed to be her rebellion. Instead, it was just dye that stained her pillowcase and made her mom sigh dramatically every morning. The real rebellion was happening at Leo's party, where the air smelled like cheap body spray and someone's older brother bought a keg.

"You gonna stand in the corner all night?" Chloe asked, flipping her perfect auburn hair like it had a personal vendetta against gravity. Chloe was everything Maya wasn't: confident, popular, had somehow figured out eyeliner in seventh grade and never looked back.

"I'm observing," Maya said, which was loser-speak for 'I'm terrified.'

The backyard was packed. Maya grabbed a plastic cup of water from the DIY cooler situation—Leo's parents were out of town, obviously—and tried to look like she belonged. Then she saw him.

Fox. Not an actual fox, though that would've been cooler. Fox was the new guy, transfer from somewhere on the East Coast, and he had this messy brown hair that looked like he'd just woken up but probably took twenty minutes to style. He was standing by the pool, looking at his phone like it held the secrets to the universe.

Maya's stomach did that thing where it forgot how to organs.

"Go talk to him," Chloe pushed, and then—because Chloe was chaotic energy incarnate—she literally shoved Maya forward.

Maya stumbled. Her cup of water splashed everywhere. Some of it hit Fox's sneakers.

He looked up. And smiled. Not the polite smile you give when someone embarrasses themselves in front of you. The real kind. The kind that made Maya's brain go lightning strike—sudden and blinding and totally short-circuiting everything.

"Nice shoes," he said, gesturing to her Converses. One was untied. Of course.

"Nice... everything," Maya wanted to say, but instead made a noise that was somewhere between a laugh and a dying seal.

"I'm Fox."

"Maya. Like the civilization."

"Cool," he said, like he actually meant it. "So, you wanna get out of here? There's this spot by the creek—"

"MAYA," Chloe yelled from across the yard. "DRAMA. JESSICA AND ETHAN. NOW."

Maya looked at Fox. Looked at where Chloe was frantically waving her over.

"Go," Fox said. "I'll be here."

Maya ran toward what would become the most talked-about party drama of sophomore year. But as she dodged through the crowd, she touched her blue hair and smiled. The rebellion wasn't the color anymore. It was this. Being seen. Being brave enough to get splashed. Being ready for whatever came next.