Goldfish in the Spinach

Riley's third day of freshman year, and she was already calculating the social fallout of the Great **Hair** Disaster of Room 204.

"Dude, it's not that bad," whispered Jordan from the next desk, tapping away on their phone. "At least you didn't get it stuck in the lab faucet like that one guy last year."

Riley groaned, letting her forehead hit the desk. The DIY bleach kit had promised sun-kissed highlights. It had delivered—from certain angles, in certain lighting, she looked like a traffic cone. Her mom's solution? A corrective dye that had turned her normally mouse-brown waves into something that could best be described as "accidental apricot."

"Ms. Chen is going to make us feed the class **goldfish** again," Jordan continued. "Bubbles looks depressed. I swear he's been staring at me all week."

Riley snorted. "He's a fish, Jordan. He doesn't have emotions."

"That's what they WANT you to think."

The lunch bell saved them from further existential fish philosophy. Riley approached the cafeteria with the confidence of someone walking into their own funeral. She'd packed a **spinach** salad in a desperate bid to appear healthy and sophisticated—a strategy that backfired when she spent twenty minutes in the bathroom mirror picking green bits out of her teeth.

By the water fountain, she froze.

There he was. Liam from AP Bio, leaning against the wall like he owned the building. His actual hair, a perfectly tousled dark mop that probably never saw a box dye in its life.

She approached the fountain. He glanced over. Their eyes met. And in that moment, Riley's brain short-circuited. Instead of pressing the button and drinking gracefully, she leaned in too far, and the fountain's **water** pressure chose that exact second to surge, spraying directly into her face.

Liam's eyes widened. "Whoa."

Riley sputtered, water dripping from her chin. "I meant to do that."

"...Cool?"

"It's a new skincare trend. Very viral."

"Right." A small smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. "I like your **orange**, by the way. It's... bold."

Riley's stomach did that weird flippy thing. "Thanks. It's a work in progress."

"Yeah?" He pushed off the wall. "Want help with the spinach? You've got—" He gestured to his own front tooth.

Riley closed her eyes. Of course.

"I was going for a rustic aesthetic," she muttered.

Jordan appeared behind her, practically vibrating. "Did he just comment on your aesthetic? DID HE?!"

Riley caught Liam's eye again. He was still smiling. And suddenly, the orange hair didn't feel so disastrous. The spinach in her teeth felt like a battle scar. The water fountain incident? A bonding moment.

Some days you survive high school. Some days, you accidentally make your mark.

Tomorrow, she'd try again. But for now? She owned this look.