Orange Summer Truths

The orange sundress was supposed to be my armor. Mom said it made me look confident, which was exactly what I needed for Jordan's pool party. Three years of crushing on him, and I was finally invited.

I stood by the deep end, clutching my phone like a lifeline. Across the pool, Taylor—head cheerleader, human golden retriever—held court. Her Chihuahua, Princess, barked at anyone who got too close to Taylor's throne (a padded lawn chair).

Then there was Connor. The rest of the football team called him a pitbull because he never let go once he sunk his teeth into something—whether that was a playbook or a grudge. Last semester, he'd made my life hell after I accidentally spilled grape juice on his jersey during drama club. Never mind that I apologized six times. Some people just needed to be angry at something.

"You look like you're solving a riddle," someone said.

I jumped. Jordan's grandmother, Nana Rose, sat in the shade under an umbrella, watching me with knowing eyes. She'd spent forty years as an English teacher and had this way of making you feel like she could see straight through to your soul.

"Just... thinking," I said.

She pointed toward Taylor's group. "They look like the Sphinx, don't they? Beautiful, mysterious, and full of secrets. But here's what nobody tells you about the Sphinx—she's just a statue. She can't actually hurt you."

The orange sun started dipping below the horizon, turning the pool water into liquid gold. Connor cannonballed in, sending a wave over everyone. Taylor shrieked. Princess shook herself dry all over Jordan's expensive speakers.

And then Jordan himself emerged from the house, holding a tray of fruit skewers. He caught my eye and actually smiled—not the polite fake one, but a real one.

"Hey," he said, walking over. "Want one? These ones are orange and pineapple. My mom's recipe."

Nana Rose winked at me.

Maybe the orange sundress was armor after all. But maybe—just maybe—I didn't need armor anymore. Not when the biggest bull in school was just a kid who made waves, and the Sphinx was just stone, and the scariest thing about growing up was realizing everyone else was just as terrified as I was.