The Baseball Cap and the Battle

I adjusted the brim of my baseball hat for the third time, trying to summon confidence I definitely didn't feel. Senior year was supposed to be epic, not terrifying.

"Chloe, seriously, you've been hiding under that hat since middle school," Maya said, flopping onto my bed. My best friend since forever, now suddenly wearing eyeliner and talking about college applications like they were exciting instead of terrifying. "Your hair's actually cute when you don't cover it."

I touched my newly cut bangs self-consciously. The pixie cut had seemed like a good idea last week—until I remembered I'd have to actually show up to school like this.

"Says the girl who discovered straighteners and contact lenses over summer break," I muttered, but without real heat. Maya hadn't changed that much. We were both just… growing up in different directions.

The doorbell cut through our awkward silence. Great. Probably my mom's Tupperware order.

Except it wasn't.

Through the window, I saw him—Lucas from my AP Euro class, standing there with an escaped Golden Retriever on a makeshift leash made from his hoodie strings. The dog was muddy. Lucas was muddy. And somehow, this was my life now.

"Is that...?" Maya pressed her face against the glass. "That's the dog that keeps running away from the Johnsons'."

I opened the door before I could overthink it.

"Hey, so," Lucas started, then stopped. The dog—Buster, according to the tag—chose that moment to shake mud all over both of us. "I found him near the baseball diamond behind the school. Thought he might be yours since, you know, you always wear that baseball hat."

My heart did this weird fluttery thing that had nothing to do with the humid afternoon air.

"He's not mine," I said, and then the most uncharacteristic thing happened. "But I can help you find his owners."

Maya appeared beside me, wiping mud from my cheek with her thumb. "We'll both help. We're kind of a package deal."

Lucas grinned, and Buster barked like he approved.

Later that evening, muddy but triumphant after returning Buster to a grateful Mrs. Johnson, Maya squeezed my hand. "For what it's worth? I like the new you. The hair, the confidence around cute boys, everything."

I pulled off my hat and let the wind hit my pixie cut. Growing up wasn't so bad when you didn't have to do it alone.