Static

My hair was doing that thing where it stood straight up, electrostatic rebellion against every product I'd dumped on it. Senior prom was in three hours, and I looked like a frightened cartoon character.

"You need to chill," Maya said from my bed, not looking up from her phone. "You're spiraling."

"My hair literally has a life of its own right now." I waved my hands over my head. "Also, have you seen my good cologne? I think Bear ate it."

Bear was my childhood companion—a stuffed teddy bear with one eye that my mom refused to let me throw away. Last I'd seen him, he'd been knocked onto the floor, possibly marinating in whatever cologne had spilled.

Maya snorted. "Your mom still has that thing? That's cursed energy, Tyler."

"Shut up."

I ducked into the bathroom and stared at myself. The vitamin supplements my mom had gotten me ("for stress") sat on the counter. I'd been taking them for weeks, but if anything, I felt more on edge. Tonight was it—asking Jordan to dance. Jordan, who somehow made everything look effortless, whose hair fell perfectly without even trying, who I'd been lowkey obsessed with since sophomore year.

My cat, Miso, wound around my ankles, meowing like she knew exactly how pathetic I was.

"You too?" I picked her up. "Everyone's a critic today."

Then my phone buzzed. Jordan: hey, you still coming tonight?

Lightning struck through my chest—actual, literal panic. What if I messed this up? What if I said something weird? What if—

"Tyler!" Maya called from my room. "Your mom is yelling something about dinner!"

I set Miso down and caught my reflection one more time. The hair situation was still critical. But you know what? Whatever. Jordan had already seen me at my worst—that time I tripped over a backpack in the cafeteria and faceplanted in front of everyone. If they could like me after that, hair gel disaster wasn't going to be the dealbreaker.

I grabbed my jacket, texted Jordan back—hell yes—and walked out with my hair still doing its own thing, Bear probably still marinating in cologne somewhere, Miso flicking her tail at me like she knew something I didn't.

Some nights, you just have to let yourself be a mess. The right people won't care. And the ones who do? They're not worth your vitamins.