Fox Orange & Goldfish Memories

The bathroom mirror reflected someone I almost recognized — me, but upgraded. My hair, previously a boring shade of mouse-brown, now blazed in what the box promised was "fox orange." It looked more like radioactive traffic cone, honestly.

"You look... bold," my little brother Leo said from the doorway, clutching his net. He was seven and had zero filter.

"Bold is good," I said, though my stomach did that nervous flip thing it always did before first days at a new school. "Bold is confident. Bold says I'm not mess-with-able."

"Mess-with-able isn't a word."

"You know what I mean."

I'd convinced Mom that hair color was basically armor against sophomore year at Northwood High. She'd sighed, handed over twenty bucks, and said something about picking battles.

The real reason wasn't armor, though. It was Paige.

Paige, who sat behind me in homeroom with her perfectly spiraled curly hair and laugh that made everything feel like an inside joke. Paige, who I'd overheard talking about how much she loved unique hair colors on Friday. Paige, who didn't know I existed.

"You're gonna chase the goldfish again?" I asked Leo, mostly to distract myself.

"His name is Captain Fin. And he's depressed."

"Goldfish don't get depressed."

"He barely swims! He just floats at the top like he's given up on life."

That made two of us.

School was exactly what I expected: stares, whispers, "Whoa, what happened to your hair?" from people who'd never looked at me twice before. I felt like I was wearing a neon sign that said NOTICE ME.

Then fifth period. Paige dropped into the seat behind me, and I literally forgot how to breathe.

"I love it," she said.

I turned around. "What?"

"Your hair! It's giving main character energy. I've been wanting to do something fun but my mom would literally kill me. What color is it even called?"

"Fox orange," I said, and immediately wanted to die.

Paige laughed. Not mean-laughed. Actually laughed. "That's perfect. You're, like, the only person who could pull that off."

We talked until the bell. About her art portfolio and my terrible attempts at watercolor. About how goldfish apparently have three-second memories which Leo insisted was fake news. About nothing and everything.

Walking home, something inside me settled. The fox orange hair wasn't armor anymore. It was just... me.

Leo was waiting by the fishbowl. "Captain Fin swam in a circle! I think he's happy now!"

"Yeah," I said, already pulling out my phone to add Paige on Instagram. "I get that."