Snapback Truth

The snapback sat sideways on my head, my brother's lucky charm that I'd 'borrowed' for Jordan's party. Standing outside her front door, I wiped my sweaty palms on my jeans for the third time. My heart did that weird fluttery thing that meant either excitement or impending cardiac arrest.

Inside, the bass thumped through the floorboards. People I'd known since middle school were suddenly strangers in their own skin—Emma with her new eyeliner, Tyler trying to grow a mustache that looked like dirt. I grabbed a soda, trying to look casual, like I belonged here instead of at home scrolling through TikTok.

"Hey Marcus." Jordan appeared beside me, smelling like vanilla and something expensive. "Love the hat."

"Thanks." I adjusted it, hoping my hair wasn't doing something weird underneath. "Yeah, been wearing this forever. It's my thing."

She raised an eyebrow. "Really? Because I could've sworn I saw your brother wearing it to school yesterday."

My face burned. I'd been caught in approximately thirty seconds.

"Okay, fine," I admitted. "I'm trying this new thing where I'm not invisible. Failed miserably, obviously."

Jordan laughed, and something in my chest loosened. "My mom makes me take these vitamin D supplements because she says I'm 'pale as a ghost.' It's humiliating."

"No way," I said. "I still take those gummy vitamins from seventh grade because I'm convinced my acne will come back if I stop. It's a whole religion."

"Bull." She grinned. "You're good, Marcus. You don't need the hat."

I took it off, running a hand through my hair. My palms weren't sweaty anymore.

"You wanna go sit outside?" Jordan asked. "It's getting kinda loud in here."

We ended up on her front steps, talking about everything and nothing until her dad came home early and everyone had to leave. I didn't become cool that night. I didn't magically transform into someone else. But as I walked home, hat in hand, I realized maybe I didn't need to.