Hair, Bears, and Bad Decisions

My hair was supposed to be sunset copper. Instead, it looked like a papaya had exploded on my head.

"You look like a traffic cone," Jordan said, trying not to laugh and failing spectacularly. We were sitting on her bathroom floor, surrounded by hair dye boxes and paper towels. Jordan was my oldest friend, the person who'd held my hand when I got my ears pierced in sixth grade, the one who knew exactly how I liked my coffee. She was also the reason my hair was currently orange.

"Shut up. It's supposed to fade," I muttered, staring at my reflection. "The box said 'warm copper highlights.'"

"The box also said 'patch test first,' which we definitely didn't do." Jordan nudged me with her foot. "It's not that bad. Just... bold."

Bold wasn't what I was going for. My first day at Jefferson High was tomorrow, and I wanted to disappear, not announce myself as the girl who couldn't follow hair dye instructions. Moving towns was supposed to be my fresh start, a chance to reinvent myself as someone confident and mysterious. Instead, I'd be known as Papaya Head before first period even started.

Lightning flashed outside the bathroom window, illuminating my disastrous reflection. A summer storm was rolling in, typical for August in Tennessee.

"You know what this means?" Jordan's eyes lit up. "We have to go to the bonfire tonight. You can't hide in your room on your last night here."

"I absolutely can."

"No, you can't. Everyone's going to be there. Including that guy from the coffee shop, the one you said was cute."

I groaned. "He's going to take one look at me and run."

"Or he's going to think you're fearless and amazing." Jordan stood up and reached for my hand. "Come on. We'll own it. We'll walk in like you meant to look exactly like this."

The bonfire was at Miller's Creek, down by the old swimming hole where kids hung out when there was nothing better to do. When we arrived, a dozen people were already there, sitting on logs and truck tailgates. Someone was playing guitar badly. Then I saw him—the coffee shop guy—talking to some friends near the fire.

Jordan steered me toward him like we were bearing down on a target. "This is Maya," she announced. "She's new in town and she has excellent taste in hair color."

The coffee shop guy—Ethan—turned around. He had dark hair that fell over one eye and the kind of smile that made you forget your own name.

"Nice to meet you," he said, and then he actually looked at my hair. "Whoa. That's... intense. Did you dye it for the move? Like, new town, new you?"

"Something like that," I managed, wanting the earth to open up and swallow me whole.

"It's sick," he said, and I realized he wasn't being sarcastic. "I tried to dye mine blue last year. Turned gray for two weeks. My mom cried."

"Bear in the backyard!" someone yelled suddenly.

Everyone scrambled toward the cabins, but Ethan grabbed my arm. "Come on, this way." We hid behind an old shed as a massive black bear lumbered past, investigating a cooler someone had left out. My heart was pounding so hard I thought it might burst.

"We're literally hiding from a bear with papaya hair," I whispered, and Ethan laughed.

"We're making memories," he said. "Best first day ever, right?"

Lightning cracked across the sky, followed by thunder that shook the ground. For a second, everything was illuminated—my ridiculous hair, Ethan's surprised face, the bear still interested in the cooler, Jordan filming everything on her phone. It was completely absurd and completely perfect.

"Yeah," I said. "Best first day ever."