Orange Crush

Maya's palms wouldn't stop sweating. Like, literally dripping onto her ripped black skinny jeans as she leaned against the bleachers, watching him skate.

He'd been christened "Fox" last semester after pulling that slick move on Mr. Harrison's calculus final — somehow aced it despite never showing up. Red hair, cunning grin, always three steps ahead of everyone. Maya had been crushing on him hard since he'd complimented her Dead Milkmen patch in October.

Now she was about to do something completely stupid.

"You gonna talk to him or just stare like a creep?" Jenna elbowed her, snapping her gum.

Maya's stomach did that awful flip-flop thing. "I'm working up to it."

"You've been 'working up to it' since homecoming, bestie. At this rate, Fox gonna graduate before you make a move."

The joke landed — Fox was a junior, she was a sophomore. But still. The point landed.

Three weeks ago, Maya had dyed her hair orange as a "screw you" to her mom's whole "you're not expressing yourself appropriately" lecture. Bright, neon, look-at-me orange. It was either rebellion or a breakdown, honestly. Fox had noticed. He'd actually noticed.

"Sick hair," he'd said in the cafeteria line. "Bold."

That one word had lived in her head rent-free since.

The skateboard wheels rattled against the concrete. Fox hopped off his board, orange sweatband pushing back that copper hair. He was heading toward the bleachers. Toward them.

Maya's palms went nuclear. She wiped them on her jeans, leaving dark streaks.

"Hey." Fox stood there, board tucked under his arm like a shield. "You're Maya, right?"

Her brain short-circuited. "Uh, yeah? That's me. Maya. I'm Maya."

Smooth. Real smooth.

"Cool." He shifted his weight. "I was gonna ask — you going to Jordan's party Saturday?"

Jenna was making what could only be described as 'help me' eyes from two feet away.

"Probably?" Maya squeaked. "I mean, yeah. Probably. If nothing... comes up."

What did 'comes up' even MEAN? She had no life.

Fox's grin went sideways, charming. "Cool. I'll see you there, then."

As he walked away, Maya's orange hair caught the sunlight. She felt it shining — bold, bright, impossible to ignore. Her heart was hammering against her ribs like it wanted out.

"You just invited yourself to a party," Jenna whispered, deadpan.

"Shut up."

"He's gonna be there. You're gonna be there. Your hair's gonna be there. The math is mathing."

Maya looked down at her palms — still sweating, still shaking, still terrified. But for the first time in forever, she thought maybe that wasn't the worst thing in the world.

Sometimes being seen meant risking everything. But sometimes, just sometimes, it meant everything was about to start.