Orange Hair Summer

The orange hair dye was supposed to be sunset red, but now I looked like a traffic cone. Which was exactly what I wanted for my first day as a junior lifeguard. Or, you know, the opposite.

"You look like Cheeto dust exploded," said Kayla, popping her gum.

"Thanks, Kayla. Your positivity is literally blinding."

I adjusted my too-tight swimsuit and avoided eye contact with the pool. The irony? I'd somehow scored a lifeguard position despite barely being able to swim. My mom thought it would "build confidence" — same thing she said about signing me up for honors algebra. That was going great too.

The real nightmare wasn't the water or my hair. It was the cable guy.

My mom had been seeing Phil for three months. Phil installed cable for a living and wore those cargo shorts with too many pockets. Phil was currently at the pool, because apparently my social life wasn't awkward enough already.

"Mia!" Phil waved from a deck chair, holding his phone. "Your mom said you're guarding today! That's so cool!"

I wanted to dissolve. I wanted to become one with the concrete. I wanted my cat, Buster, who never asked awkward questions at pool parties.

Then Carter walked in.

Carter with the messy dark hair and the weird ability to make everything seem like a joke. Carter, who I'd been secretly crushing on since eighth period English. Carter, who was currently staring at my orange hair.

He approached the lifeguard stand. "What happened to your hair?"

"Dye accident," I mumbled, pulling my whistle tighter around my neck. "It was supposed to be red."

"It's... bold." He grinned. "Like you're making a statement."

"Yeah, the statement is 'I have terrible judgment.'"

"Nah." Carter leaned against the stand. "Hey, you doing anything later?"

My heart did something weird and floaty. "Maybe. Why?"

"My friend's band is playing at the coffee shop. Thought you might want to come. If you're not busy... guarding."

"I'm not actually, like, good at swimming," I admitted quietly. "I mostly just blow the whistle and look authoritative."

Carter laughed. "That's literally the best thing I've heard all day. Seriously though — come tonight? 7ish?"

Maybe my orange hair wasn't a disaster. Maybe it was the thing that made Carter finally notice me. Maybe sometimes the stuff that feels like the end of the world is actually just the beginning.

"Yeah," I said, actually smiling. "Yeah, I'll be there."

My orange hair glinted in the sun. The pool sparkled below like it was daring me to jump in. Baby steps, I told myself. But Carter wanted to hang out. And that felt like swimming, I thought, in the best possible way — terrifying, exhilarating, and completely worth drowning for.