Sweaty Palms & Bad Hair Days

Maya's phone buzzed on her nightstand — 7:43 PM. Three minutes until Jordan would be outside. She grabbed her iPhone with shaking hands, sweat already prickling her hairline.

"You good?" Chloe's text read. "You've been spiraling for two hours."

Maya flopped onto her bed, staring at her reflection in the closet mirror. Her curls were doing that thing again — half-frizzy, half-flat, refusing to cooperate with the expensive gel her mom had bought. She'd already restarted her hair routine twice.

"My hair looks like a clown exploded on my head," Maya typed back, then deleted it. Too dramatic. Even for her.

Her palm kept slipping on the phone case. Nerves. Always nerves. Jordan was cool — like, actually cool. Not performative TikTok cool, but the kind of effortless confidence that made everyone lean in when he spoke at lunch. And here she was, having a meltdown over hair products.

The doorbell rang.

Maya's stomach did something genuinely alarming. She grabbed her denim jacket, checked her reflection one last time, and opened the door.

Jordan stood there in that oversized black hoodie he always wore, hands shoved in his pockets. "Hey."

"Hey." Maya's voice came out weirdly high. Smooth.

They walked toward the downtown theater in comfortable silence until Jordan spoke up. "So, I heard what happened with your presentation today."

Maya's face burned. "Word travels fast."

"No, it was actually sick." Jordan side-eyed her. "You called out Mr. Henderson for using data from 2019 to prove some weird point about Gen Z attention spans. That took guts."

Maya stopped walking. "You think so? I thought I sounded unhinged."

"Nah." Jordan pulled out his iPhone, tapped a few times, and turned the screen toward her. It was a TikTok — someone had recorded Maya's presentation. The caption read: "POV: when the quiet kid finally snaps with FACTS."

The video had 47,000 likes.

"I — what?" Maya stared at the screen, then at Jordan. He was grinning.

"You're kind of legendary now. Just so you know."

Maya's palm stopped sweating. For the first time all night, she couldn't feel her heart hammering against her ribs. Her hair was still a mess. She was still Maya. But somehow, that was enough.

"Want to get boba instead?" Jordan asked. "The theater line is gonna be ridiculous."

Maya smiled, really smiled. "Bet."