Fox Ears and Orange Duct Tape
Maya's first mistake was letting Samantha convince her that junior year was the perfect time to come out of her shell. Her second mistake was volunteering for Spirit Week decoration committee.
"It'll be fun," Samantha had promised, scrolling through TikTok with practiced nonchalance. "Besides, Tyler from varsity football is totally gonna notice you if you're all school-spirit-y."
Maya seriously doubted that. Tyler had approximately zero brain cells dedicated to anyone not named Samantha or sporting cleats. Still, she found herself at school at 7 PM on a Tuesday, surrounded by cardboard, tempera paint, and the kind of nervous energy that only came from being trapped in a gym with six popular kids and two teachers who'd clearly rather be anywhere else.
"Alright everyone," announced Chloe, student council president and walking embodiment of main character energy. "Our homecoming game against Ridgeview High is literally this Friday. Their mascot is that lame fox. We need to show them why the **bull** is WAY more iconic."
Maya kept painting. She didn't have the heart to mention that Ridgeview's fox mascot was actually kinda cute, and that their bull mascot looked like it had been drawn by someone who'd never seen either a bull or basic geometry.
"Here's the vision," Chloe continued, gesturing dramatically at a half-finished banner. "We're doing an **orange** theme. Orange everything. Orange streamers, orange pompoms, orange face paint. It's aggressive. It's bold. It's giving winner energy."
Maya accidentally squeezed too much paint. A bright orange blob splattered onto her white sneakers. Great. Now she'd have to explain to her mom why she needed new shoes two weeks into the school year.
"I can fix that," said a voice behind her.
Maya turned to find Jake— Ridgeview High's transfer student, somehow roped into helping with his new school's decorations. He was cute in that annoyingly effortless way, with messy dark hair and eyes that seemed to find everything mildly amusing.
"You go here now," Maya pointed out. "Technically you're a traitor to your former fox kingdom."
"The fox kingdom has fallen," Jake said solemnly, pulling orange duct tape from his backpack. "Also, Ridgeview's mascot was designed by the principal's nephew in 2004. It's an embarrassment. I've been liberated."
He taped over the orange paint on her shoe, somehow making it look intentional. "See? Street style. It's giving DIY aesthetic."
Maya laughed. She couldn't help it.
By 9 PM, they'd somehow become a team. Jake kept making absurd suggestions—"What if the bull had wings? What if it was a bull-**fox** hybrid?"—and Maya kept accidentally saying things that were actually funny out loud instead of just in her head.
"You know," Jake said, while they were cleaning up paint brushes, "you're actually kind of cool."
"I'm literally painting a cardboard bull," Maya said. "This is not peak coolness."
"No, I mean..." He shrugged, looking unexpectedly vulnerable. "Most people would've told me to shut up an hour ago."
"I mean, you SHOULD shut up," Maya said. "I'm just too tired to say it."
Jake grinned. "Fair."
Friday night, Maya stood in the student section with orange paint on her cheeks and Jake's number—wut, 23?—written on her arm in Sharpie. Ridgeview's fox mascot danced awkwardly on the sidelines while their bull mascot—probably some sophomore named Kevin who'd drawn the short straw—charged theatrically at every timeout.
Samantha was still talking about Tyler. Tyler was still completely oblivious. And Maya was kinda okay with that.
"Yo," Jake said, appearing beside her with two cups of questionable-looking punch. "Wanna go get food after? Like, actual food, not whatever this is."
Maya looked at the orange waves of students, at the papier-mâché bull they'd spent three days making, at the way the stadium lights made everything feel possible.
"Sure," she said. "But you're paying. I sacrificed my sneakers for school spirit."
"Deal." Jake grinned. "The bull would be proud."
Maya laughed. The fox would be too, probably.