The Cable Box Confessions

Maya's hair was supposed to be caramel highlights. Instead, it looked like a raccoon had exploded on her head.

"You're not backing out," Chloe said, adjusting the strap of her floral swimsuit. "The pool party is literally happening. In two hours."

"My HAIR is a disaster," Maya groaned, yanking her hood further down. "I can't. Everyone will see."

"Maya. It's fine. You're being dramatic."

Dramatic. That's what everyone said about everything now. But this wasn't drama — this was social suicide waiting to happen.

She ended up at Liam's house instead, because at least he didn't care about appearances. His basement was a shrine to 2000s tech, complete with a CRT TV and a cable box from the dinosaur age.

"Swimming?" Liam asked, not looking up from his controller. "With THE popular crowd?"

"Don't say it like that," she sighed, sinking onto his couch. "I just can't do it today. Not with... this." She gestured vaguely at her hooded head.

Liam paused the game. Finally, he actually looked at her. "Show me."

"No."

"Maya. We've been neighbors since we were literally five. I've seen you with chicken pox. I've seen you cry over a math test. Show me the hair."

She hesitated. Then pulled the hood back.

Liam stared. Then burst out laughing.

"Oh my GOD, you look like —"

"I KNOW, okay?!"

"—like that one Pokémon. The striped one. What's it called?"

"Liam!"

"No, seriously!" He was wheezing now. "It's not bad. It's just... very distinctive. Very you."

Maya felt herself smiling despite everything. "Distinctive. That's one word for it."

"Look," Liam said, his tone shifting. "Remember when we went swimming last summer and you jumped off the high dive? You were terrified. But you did it anyway."

"And then I almost drowned."

"You did NOT almost drown. You doggy-paddled like a champion. The point is, you did the scary thing. This hair? It's just hair. It'll grow out. But missing out on life because you're hiding? That's way worse."

Maya looked at the tangled cable behind his TV, then at her reflection in the darkened screen. The striped disaster was still there. But Liam was right.

"Fine," she said, standing up. "But if anyone asks, I'm going for the misunderstood artist vibe."

"Totally," Liam grinned. "Very edgy. Very mysterious."

"You're the worst."

"I know." He grabbed his keys. "Now let's go. The water's not gonna swim in itself."

"That's not how that works."

"I know! I'm being supportive in my own way!"

Maya laughed — really laughed — and realized her hair didn't matter. The people who mattered didn't care, and the people who cared didn't matter.

She pulled her hood back up, just for the walk over. Old habits, she figured, died hard. But maybe that was okay too.