Orange Hair & Other Disasters

Maya's life was officially over. Like, cancelled. Deactivated.

"You look like a traffic cone," her brother Leo said, leaning against the bathroom doorframe.

Maya stared at her reflection. The box had said "Sunset Copper," not "Construction Zone Orange." Her hair was practically radioactive. And tonight was Andrew's party - the one where she'd finally decided to tell him she liked him after two years of friendship.

Her childhood dog Buster chose that moment to trot in, carrying something slimy in his mouth. A plastic baggie. With a familiar orange fish inside.

"BUSTER!"

The goldfish funeral had been THREE YEARS AGO. Who kept the ashes?

Leo's eyes went wide. "Is that -"

"Yes."

"Nemo?"

"Yes."

"From when Mom flushed him?"

"YES."

They both dissolved into laughter. Maya caught her reflection again - orange hair, red eyes from crying, now laughing so hard she was wheezing. Something in her chest unlocked.

"You know what?" She grabbed her keys. "I'm going like this."

"You're brave, Maya. Taking the bull by the horns."

She paused. "Wait. Andrew's parents own that ranch with the mechanical bull."

"And...?"

She grinned. "Let's just say Nemo's coming with me."

The party was exactly as terrifying as expected. Andrew was surrounded by his soccer friends, looking effortless in a way that made her stomach hurt. Then she saw Tyler - aka "The Bull" in their year's group chat - making fun of some freshman's shoes.

Something in Maya snapped. Maybe it was the orange hair giving her powers. Maybe it was Nemo's baggie in her pocket like a tiny radioactive fish talisman.

"Yo, Tyler!" she called out. The room went quiet. "That freshman? His mom made those shoes. They're custom, actually. Pretty sick if you ask me."

Tyler blinked. "What?"

"You heard me." She walked right up to him. "Also, your fly's been down for like, twenty minutes. Just saying."

The room erupted. Tyler turned bright red. Andrew caught her eye from across the room and mouthed, "You're insane."

Maya smiled. Her hair was orange. She had a dead goldfish in her pocket. She'd just publicly humiliated the most intimidating guy in tenth grade.

And for the first time in forever, she didn't care what anyone thought.

"So," Andrew said, appearing beside her as Tyler retreated. "Interesting hair color choice."

"Traffic cone chic," she said, not even embarrassed.

"It works." He grinned. "Also, did I hear you correctly about having a fish in your pocket?"

"Long story."

"I've got time."

Maybe tonight wouldn't be so bad after all.