Electric Blue Hair Day

My hair was supposed to be electric blue. That was the plan. Instead, it looked like a zombie had crawled out of a swimming pool and died on my head. The DIY dye job had turned my hair a patchy, splotchy greenish-gray that made me look like I'd been sick for three weeks straight.

"You look... interesting," Maya said, which was basically code for "you look like a dumpster fire." She was leaning against my bedroom doorframe, already dressed for the party. Her hair was perfect, obviously. Dark, smooth, falling in exactly the right way.

"I can't go like this," I groaned, staring at my reflection. "I look like I'm dead inside."

"You look edgy," she corrected, but her expression said otherwise. "Come on, we're gonna be late."

The party was at Tyler's house—Tyler, who I'd been secretly lowkey obsessed with since seventh grade. Tyler, who would definitely notice me now, but definitely not in the way I wanted. As we walked there, thunder started rumbling overhead. Perfect. Just perfect.

By the time we arrived, I was full-on spiraling. The music was too loud, there were too many people, and I felt like a spy observing everyone from behind enemy lines. I didn't belong here. I should've just stayed home and lived my best zombie life alone in my room.

Then I saw Tyler across the room, laughing with his friends. Our eyes met for like 0.3 seconds, and it was like lightning struck my chest. But not in a good way—in a "everyone is staring at me and my horrific hair" way.

I made a beeline for the backyard, needing air. The pool was empty, the water reflecting the gathering storm clouds above. I stood there, feeling ridiculous, about to cry over something so stupid as hair dye.

"Hey," said a voice behind me. I turned to find Tyler standing there, looking surprisingly nervous. "I, uh, I like your hair."

"You're lying," I said automatically.

"No, seriously." He stepped closer. "It's... different. It's cool that you're not trying to look like everyone else."

A drop of rain hit my arm. Then another. The sky lit up with actual lightning, illuminating everything in this flash of purple-white.

"My hair is a disaster," I said, but I was smiling now.

"Maybe," Tyler said, "but disasters are more interesting than perfection." And then, casually, like it was no big deal, he asked, "Want to go swimming? Like, right now? In the rain?"

I looked at my zombie hair, my amazing friend Maya who was watching from the back door and giving me two thumbs up, the storm brewing overhead, and this boy who somehow got it. Sometimes you have to stop swimming against the current and just let yourself drift.

"Absolutely," I said, and jumped in.