Orange Cat Energy

Maya felt like a zombie. Not the cool TikTok kind with dramatic eye makeup and torn fishnets — the exhausted, walking-through-jello kind that came from three weeks of overthinking every single social interaction at her new school.

"You need this," her mom said, sliding a bottle across the kitchen table. "Vitamin D for mood support."

Maya squinted at the orange bottle. "Mom, I'm not depressed. I'm just... socially hibernating. There's a difference."

Her orange tabby cat, Nacho, wound around her legs, purring like a tiny motor. At least Nacho didn't ask why she spent Friday nights watching other people live their best lives on Snapchat.

The house party down the street was already thumping with bass when Maya's phone buzzed. EMMA: you coming???

Maya stared at her reflection. She'd dyed her hair orange last week — a bold choice, her stylist had said. A mistake, her anxiety whispered. It screamed 'new girl trying too hard.' She pulled her beanie hat down low, effectively hiding everything except her nose.

Nacho meowed, almost judgmentally.

"Fine," Maya told him. "I'll go for twenty minutes. That's it."

The party was exactly what she expected: too many bodies, not enough air, someone doing a shaky remix of a song that didn't need remixing. She made it to the kitchen before someone bumped into her, knocking her hat askew.

"Whoa, nice hair!" It was a guy with blue braces and kind eyes. "Is that, like, intentional orange or accidental orange?"

Maya froze. This was it — the moment where everyone laughed and she became the new school legend for all the wrong reasons.

"Intentional," she said, voice steadier than she felt. "It's called giving zero —"

"It looks sick," he said. "Like, actually sick. My cousin does hair in the city and she'd lose her mind over that shade."

Maya pulled her hat off completely.

"Thanks."

"I'm Marcus."

"Maya."

They talked for an hour. About his failed attempts at becoming a TikTok chef, about how Nacho hated everyone but her, about how maybe — just maybe — the zombie feeling was temporary.

When she finally got home, Nacho was waiting by the door. Maya took off her hat, ran her hands through her orange hair, and realized she hadn't checked her phone once.

The vitamin bottle on the kitchen table caught the light. Maybe she'd start taking them tomorrow. Or maybe she'd just keep showing up, orange hair and all.