Goldfish Orange

The bathroom mirror showed exactly what I expected: another day of blending in. My brown hair hung limp and boring, just like my social life. While other kids were thriving in high school with their friend groups and TikToks and weekend plans, I was just existing. Main character energy? More like NPC vibes, honestly.

Then my phone buzzed. Track tryouts today.

Running was the one thing that made me feel alive. The wind in my face, the rhythm of my breath, the burning in my legs—it was like I could actually outrun my awkwardness, if only for forty seconds at a time. But today felt different. Today I wanted to show up as someone new.

Someone who wasn't afraid to be seen.

My sister's hair dye collection sat on the counter like a challenge. Why not? What did I have to lose besides my invisibility?

Forty minutes later, I stared at my reflection. Goldfish orange. Vibrant, unmissable, absolutely ridiculous goldfish orange hair.

My first thought: I look insane.

My second thought: I love it.

The track meet was chaos as usual—everyone shouting, spikes clacking on the rubber, that pre-race electricity that makes your hands shake. But when I walked onto the field, the noise level dropped. Like, noticeably.

"YO, who is that?" someone whispered.

"New girl? That hair is WILD."

"She looks so confident though..."

Confident? I was terrified. My heart was running a marathon before I even made it to the starting line. But something about the goldfish-orange hair felt like armor. Like I'd finally decided to stop apologizing for taking up space.

The gun went off.

I ran. And for the first time, I wasn't running away from who I was. I was running toward her—the girl who colors her hair goldfish orange because she FEELS like it. The girl who doesn't care if people stare. The girl who's done playing NPC in her own life.

I didn't win the race. But as I caught my breath, hands on my knees, hair absolutely everywhere, this freshman came up to me.

"Your hair is sick," she said. "I've been wanting to do something cool with mine, but my parents would literally kill me. You're so brave."

Brave. Me.

Maybe goldfish have it figured out. They just swim around, being unapologetically orange, not caring who's watching through the glass.

Maybe I could be like that too.