Sunset Orange

Maya's palms were sweating. Like, actually sweating. She wiped them on her denim shorts for the third time, trying to look casual while dying inside.

"You good?" Chelsea raised an eyebrow, her phone connected to the charging cable dangling from the boardwalk outlet. "You've been acting weird all night."

"I'm fine," Maya lied, her voice cracking slightly. Great. Totally smooth.

The truth was, Lucas was supposed to meet them here. At the pier. At sunset. And Maya had spent forty-five minutes this afternoon staring at her hair in the bathroom mirror, debating whether she looked okay or like she'd just rolled out of bed. She'd even considered dyeing it that cool orange-y pink she'd seen on TikTok, but chickened out at the last minute.

"There he is!" Chelsea hissed, pointing to the beach access ramp.

Lucas jogged up, his board tucked under one arm, hair messy from the ocean breeze. He was wearing that orange hoodie Maya had commented on once at school—the one she'd said "looked really good on him" while mentally facepalming at how awkward she sounded.

"Hey!" he said, slightly out of breath. "Sorry if I'm late, my mom needed help with something."

"No worries," Maya said, way too fast. "We weren't waiting long or anything. Not that we were waiting. For you. Specifically."

Chelsea mouthed "oh my god" from behind Lucas's back.

The three of them sat on the edge of the pier, watching the sky turn from pink to that perfect golden-orange that makes everything feel like a movie scene. Lucas's knee kept bumping Maya's—accidentally, probably, but her heart did this stupid little flip every time.

"So," Lucas said, after a minute of comfortable silence, "I was gonna get slushies from that stand tomorrow. You wanna come?"

Maya's palms started sweating again. But this time, she didn't wipe them on her shorts.

"Yeah," she said, and her voice didn't crack. "I'd love that."