Orange Jacket, Zombie Heart

The first day of sophomore year, I looked like a zombie. No joke. My mom said I'd grow into the oversized orange hand-me-down jacket from my cousin, but instead I looked like a traffic cone that hadn't slept in three days.

"Nice look," Marcus said at lunch, deadpan. "Very... visible."

"Shut up," I muttered, pulling the jacket tighter. My phone buzzed - my turn to post something for our finsta account. Chloe was already mad at me for ghosting the group chat all weekend.

Then I saw HER across the cafeteria. Jasmine from track. She was laughing with her friends, hair pulled back in that effortless way I could never pull off. We'd been running together at practice since freshman year, but this year felt different. More awkward.

"You're staring," Marcus whispered.

"I'm not."

"You totally are. Just go talk to her already."

Easy for him to say. Marcus wasn't wearing a highlighter-orange jacket that screamed "I have zero fashion sense and my parents are too practical to buy me new clothes."

But then Jasmine looked over and caught my eye. She smiled. ACTUALLY smiled.

Later at track practice, Coach made us run intervals until I thought I'd puke. I was dying, literally seeing stars, when Jasmine slowed down to match my pace.

"Hey," she said, slightly out of breath. "I like your jacket. It's bold."

I almost tripped. "You think? It's hideous."

"No, it's... memorable. Like, you're not trying to fit in with everyone else's basic gray and black hoodies." She grinned. "It's dope, honestly."

We kept running, side by side, and for the first time all day, I didn't feel like a zombie anymore. I felt awake.

That night I posted a mirror selfie in the orange jacket with the caption "running on fumes and citrus aesthetics 💀" Jasmine was the first to like it.

Sometimes the stuff you're most self-conscious about becomes the thing that makes you memorable. Who knew being visible could actually feel... good?