Orange Tape and Pyramids

The orange tape across the gym entrance practically glowed against the gray concrete. Kai stood there, clutching his phone like it might save him from what waited inside.

"You're actually doing this?" Sofia asked, already halfway through the doors. She'd been trying to talk him into the winter showcase for weeks.

"My mom says I'll regret it if I don't." Kai adjusted his collar—also orange, because his older sister had convinced him it made him look 'confident.' Whatever that meant.

Inside, the gym had been transformed. But Kai's eyes went straight to the human pyramid in the center of the floor—cheerleaders frozen mid-lift, their uniforms a blur of red and white. At the base stood Marcus, the kid everyone called 'the bull' because he'd plowed through the entire football team during homecoming week. Marcus caught Kai's eye and smirked.

Kai's stomach did that thing it always did when he thought about the art showcase display. His charcoal sketches were propped on easels along the back wall, exposed like raw nerves. He'd spent three weeks on that self-portrait, the one where his face was half-orange half-blue, like he was splitting apart at the seams.

"Your stuff's actually kind of sick," someone said behind him.

Kai turned. It was Maya, the girl who sat behind him in history, the one who always wore those oversized hoodies and drew little spirals in the margins of her notes.

"Which one?" he asked, despite himself.

"The orange one." She pointed with her chin. "It's like—you know how sometimes you feel like you're two different people? The one your parents see, and the one you actually are?"

Kai stared at her. "Yeah. Exactly that."

"Well." Maya shrugged. "You nailed it."

The cheerleaders' pyramid collapsed into giggles. Marcus high-fived someone across the gym. Kai looked at his orange-taped display, then at Maya, who was already walking away but turned back to wave.

"See you in history Monday," she called.

Kai's phone buzzed. A text from his sister: DID YOU DO IT???

He typed back: YEAH. and then, because he felt like it: SOMEONE ACTUALLY LIKED IT.

The orange tape across the door didn't look so bright anymore. Or maybe it did, but in a way that felt okay. Kai grabbed a slice of pizza from the refreshment table—orange pepperoni, brilliant and greasy—and took a bite. He'd figure out the rest tomorrow.