First Day Frizz

Maya stared at her reflection, fingers tangling in the frizz that used to be sleek brown waves. The DIY hair dye kit from TikTok promised "subtle caramel highlights," but now she looked like she'd rolled around in a Cheetos factory. First day at Northwood High, and she was already starting with a crown of crispy orange disaster.

"You look... different," her mom said from the doorway, trying not to laugh as she handed Maya a breakfast smoothie. "Green smoothie. Spinach, banana, almond milk. Your brother said it's what all the cool kids drink now."

Maya took a sip, grimaced. It tasted like lawn clippings blended with disappointment. "Great. Now I'm a Cheeto-haired freak who drinks pond water."

Her phone buzzed. Group chat from her old school: "good luck today don't be nervous!!" followed by "remember us when ur famous lol" — which made her chest tight with something between sadness and annoyance.

In the living room, her dad was wrestling with a tangle of cable behind the TV. "Stupid cable's been out since yesterday," he muttered. "Your mother wants to watch her shows, but I can't figure out which wire goes where."

"Need help?" Maya offered, kneeling beside him. The familiar task — identifying HDMI, power, ethernet — calmed her racing heart. She'd been the unofficial tech support since she was twelve, when she'd fixed the family Wi-Fi after her dad's "creative" rearranging.

"There," she said, connecting the final cable. The TV flickered to life.

Her dad squeezed her shoulder. "You're good at this. You'll be fine today."

Maya checked her phone again. Smoothie must've been the problem. When she smiled at her reflection, bright green spinach bits were wedged between her front teeth. Perfect.

She scrubbed, rinsed, checked. Clean. Then applied emergency mascara and her lucky hoodie. The orange hair was still terrible, but whatever.

"Maya! Bus!" Her mom called.

She grabbed her backpack, heart pounding. At the door, she caught her reflection one more time — frizzy orange crown, tired eyes, but smiling anyway.

"Whatever," she whispered, and stepped into the sunlight.