Orange Hair, Golden Truths

The bathroom mirror showed a stranger. My hair, once safely boring brown, now screamed ORANGE. Like, traffic cone orange. Mom was gonna lose it when she got back from her business trip.

"You did WHAT?" Maya's voice cracked through my phone speaker.

"It's called self-expression, bestie." I adjusted my beanie, even though I was indoors. Senior year, remember? New vibes only."

The SWIMMING party at Jordan's house was in two hours. Jordan, who I'd been lowkey crushing on since freshman year. Jordan, who definitely wouldn't notice me now that I looked like a walking radioactive fruit.

His house was already packed when I arrived. Kids from school, people I barely knew, all scattered around the pool. I hovered near the snack table, clutching a red plastic cup like it contained my life force.

Then I saw it: a giant inflatable goldfish floating in the pool, its vacant plastic eyes judging my entire existence. Someone had brought their actual CAT too—a calico that sat regally on a patio chair, watching us like we were the entertainment.

"Nice hair."

I jumped. Jordan stood there, pool water dripping from their swim trunks. Up close, they had this tiny scar above their left eyebrow I'd never noticed.

"It's... bold?" I managed. "Probably a mistake."

"Nah." Jordan grinned. "Freshman year, I dyed mine blue. Looked like a smurf for weeks until my mom made me shave it." They pointed to the goldfish inflatable. "My little sister's. Don't ask."

The cat chose that moment to leap from the chair, land squarely on Jordan's shoulder, and start purring like a motor.

"OOF. Beans, you traitor." But Jordan was laughing, and suddenly I was too. The orange hair didn't feel so stupid anymore.

"Wanna swim?" Jordan asked. "Unless you're worried about your hair turning, like, pink-orange."

"That's not a color."

"Watch me invent it."

I jumped in. The pool swallowed me, cool and shocking, and when I surfaced, Jordan was grinning.

Maybe orange was my color after all.