Foxfire & Orange Soda

Leo's graduation party was supposed to be legendary, but I'd spent the last hour hiding in his driveway, clutching a warm orange soda like it was my only friend. The fox-red hair I'd dyed yesterday still felt weird every time I touched it, like I was wearing someone else's skin.

"You gonna stand there all night, Foxy?" Leo's voice cut through the bonfire crackle. He'd called me that since seventh grade, when I'd somehow talked our way out of detention for skipping P.E. to sketch in the library. It used to make me feel cunning. Now it just felt like another mask I hadn't earned.

Inside, everyone was already in full weekend mode. Maya was there—the Maya who'd caught me staring at her in AP Bio three times this week. She was wearing that oversized flannel she always stole from her older brother, something bear-like and warm that made my chest do that annoying flutter thing.

"Love the hair," she said, sliding onto the porch swing beside me. "Fresh." Her voice had that casual cool I'd been trying to fake since freshman year.

"Yeah, just. Figured it was time for something new." My orange soda was sweating through my jeans. Great. "So. You excited for graduation?"

She shrugged. "Honestly? I'm kinda terrified. Like, what if the version of myself I've been building all high school isn't who I actually am?" She looked at me, really looked at me. "Does that make sense?"

Something in my chest unlocked. "Literally all the time. I dyed my hair because I thought maybe if I looked different, I'd feel different. But I still feel like the same kid who hid in the library during P.E."

Maya laughed, and the sound was so genuine it made my breath hitch. "We're all just foxes, dude. Acting like we know what we're doing when we're really just trying not to get eaten by the bears out there."

"The bears?"

"Real life. College. Jobs. Whatever comes next." She grinned. "But hey—at least we have orange soda?"

I clinked my can against hers. "To surviving the bears."

"To being foxes," she countered, and her smile lingered a second longer than necessary.

Maybe the new hair wasn't a mask after all. Maybe it was just practice for becoming someone braver. And maybe, just maybe, that was enough for now.