That Orange Summer

Maya's mom called it her "experimental phase." Maya called it survival.

Sixteen with frizzy orange **hair** that refused to be tamed, Maya spent every lunch period hiding in the library, scrolling through her phone while her cat Barnaby sent her mental support from home. At least Barnaby didn't care that she looked like a traffic cone with anxiety.

"Hey, Orange Crush." It was Jordan, the hockey captain whose locker was next to hers. He'd never actually spoken to her before, unless you counted the time he'd asked her to move.

"My name's Maya," she muttered, clutching her **water** bottle like a shield.

"Whatever. You coming to Jake's pool party Friday?"

Maya blinked. This had to be a prank. "Why?"

Jordan shrugged, actually looking kind of nervous. "Jake's bringing his little cousin's giant stuffed **bear** for some reason. Said he needed 'neutral ground' to give it back. Thought you might want to witness the spectacle of Jake Chen cuddling a teddy **bear** in public."

A laugh escaped before Maya could stop it. Jordan's grin was suddenly real.

"So?"

"Fine," Maya said, feeling something warm in her chest that had nothing to do with the humid hallway air. "But only for the blackmail material."

The party was exactly the kind of disaster Maya expected—the **cat**-fight between two seniors over the last slice of pizza, Jake's awkward bear handoff that ended with both of them in the pool, fully clothed. But somehow Maya found herself on the diving board with Jordan, their legs dangling over the **water**, both of them damp from an impromptu splash fight.

"You know," Jordan said, "your **hair** looks kind of awesome in the pool lights. Like, actual fire."

Maya looked at her reflection shimmering below. **Orange** flames dancing across dark **water**. She didn't hate it.

"Fire," she repeated, testing the word. "I can work with that."

Jordan's phone buzzed—his ride was leaving. He stood up, dripping wet, and grinned down at her. "See you Monday, Firestarter."

Maya stayed on the diving board until her toes turned pruney, watching the **water** ripple into infinity, thinking about Mondays and hair dye and how maybe, just maybe, sixteen wouldn't be completely terrible after all.