Signal Lost

Riley's hair looked like a lawnmower had gone rogue. Three days before sophomore year photos, and she'd let her cousin practice his 'YouTube barber skills' on her. Now she was rocking what could best be described as 'angry porcupine chic.'

Which explained the hat. A vintage Lakers snapback she'd found at Goodwill, pulled low enough to shadow her eyes. She looked like she was either hiding from the FBI or permanently headed to a skate park she'd never visit.

'You good?' asked Jordan, tapping her shoulder in AP Bio. 'You've been wearing that inside for three days straight. You look like a cryptic influencer who only communicates through vibes.'

Riley sighed. 'Hair disaster. Family betrayal. The usual.'

Jordan laughed. 'Dude, everyone has at least one terrible haircut story. Mine was the pixie cut that made me look like a confused third grader for six months.'

That night, Riley FaceTimed her cousin. 'Bro. Fix me.'

'No way,' he said, laptop balanced on his knees. 'I'm not touching it again. But also, honestly? It's kind of iconic. It says, 'I don't care what society thinks, I'm here to flourish.''

The HDMI cable connecting his laptop to the TV suddenly slipped out. Jordan's face froze mid-laugh, replaced by NO SIGNAL.

Riley stared at the gray screen, thumb hovering over the reconnect button. Something about the moment felt weirdly perfect. The messed-up hair. The hat. The connection that literally and figuratively kept cutting out.

She pulled off the Lakers snapback.

'You know what?' she said, when the cable was reconnected and Jordan's face returned. 'Maybe it doesn't need fixing. Maybe 'angry porcupine' is exactly the energy I'm bringing this year.'

'Okay,' Jordan grinned. 'But you're still wearing that hat to the football game on Friday. It's your brand now.'

Riley laughed, pulling the brim low again. 'Bet.'