Fox Hair Lightning

The party was at Chloe's house, which meant the expensive pool shaped like a kidney bean and all the popular kids from sophomore year. I spent forty-five minutes in front of the mirror trying to tame my hair—this frizzy orange mess that my older sister's friends called "fox hair" because apparently it reminded them of some wild animal they'd seen camping.

"You're not actually gonna swim, right?" Maya asked when I picked her up, flipping down the passenger visor to check her lip gloss. "I heard Jason's gonna be there."

"I don't know," I said, even though I'd been thinking about Jason's ridiculous smile all week. "Maybe I'll just... hang out."

The humidity was making my hair expand like I'd stuck my finger in an electrical socket. By the time we got to Chloe's, I looked like I'd been licked by a radioactive fox.

I spent the first hour pretending to be fascinated by people's towels while everyone else cannonballed into the pool. Jason was there, looking annoyingly perfect in navy swim trunks, doing laps like he was training for the Olympics. I watched him cut through the water, smooth and controlled, while I sat on the edge with my feet dangling in.

Then the sky went dark purple, which in retrospect should have been our first clue. Someone's mom came out saying there was a storm warning, but nobody wanted to leave because we were sixteen and therefore invincible.

The first lightning strike hit so close I could taste ozone in the back of my throat. Everyone screamed and scrambled out of the pool, slipping on wet concrete, towels flying everywhere. I ended up pressed against the side of the house with Jason, both of us dripping wet, his shoulder warm against mine.

"Your hair's crazy," he said, grinning like he wasn't scared at all.

"Tell me something I don't know," I muttered, trying to flatten it with my hands.

"No, I mean—it's cool. Like, actually cool. Not weird-cool." Another flash of lightning illuminated his face, and I saw he was serious. "I've been wanting to talk to you all week, but you keep disappearing."

The rain started pouring down, hard and sudden, washing away the awkwardness of pool parties and who was watching. I looked at my frizzy orange hair plastered against my face, at Jason standing way too close, at the lightning painting the sky electric white.

"I wasn't disappearing," I said over the thunder. "I was just... overthinking everything. As usual."

"Well stop," he said, and kissed me while rain ran down our faces like we were in some ridiculous movie, except my hair really did look like a fox's and I was barefoot on wet concrete and it was absolutely perfect. Later, I'd find out that Maya had been trying to give us space all along, that everyone had known Jason was into me except me, and that sometimes the best things happen when you're caught in a storm with nowhere to hide.