Static in the Water

Maya pulled her dad's baseball cap lower, practically swallowing her forehead. The worst part about getting bangs cut two inches too short wasn't looking like a toddler — it was that everyone noticed. Especially Jordan.

"You coming in or what?" Jordan called from the pool, dripping wet, grinning like they owned the place. Which, honestly, they kind of did. Jordan's pool parties were legendary.

"Maybe later," Maya mumbled, already regretting coming. She'd spent the whole week running from mirrors, from her friends' texts asking what happened, from her own reflection. She'd even skipped track practice because she couldn't deal with the stray pieces of hair that refused to stay tucked.

A crack of thunder shook the sky.

"Everyone out!" Jordan's mom shouted from the patio. "Storm's rolling in fast."

Great. Now she couldn't even avoid the pool by fake-texting. The patio was filling up with wet, laughing people while Maya stood there gripping her solo cup like a lifeline.

Then Jordan was there, toweling off their hair, way too close. "You okay? You've been weird all night."

"Fine. Just — my hair, it's —" Maya gestured vaguely at her hat.

Jordan laughed. "Dude, everyone gets bad haircuts. Mine looked like a mushroom in seventh grade. My mom still has the photos."

A fluorescent flicker of lightning illuminated the backyard, turning everything ghost-blue for one perfect second. In that flash, Jordan saw it — Maya's face, the ridiculous too-short bangs, the genuine panic in her eyes.

"Can I see?" Jordan asked softly.

Maya's fingers trembled as she pulled off the hat. Her hair sprang free, stupid and uneven and hers.

Jordan didn't laugh. "Actually," they said, "it kinda makes your eyes look huge. Like, in a good way."

Maya blinked. Lightning struck again somewhere distant, and for once, she wasn't running.