The Cat Who Knew My Secret

Maya's hands shook as she popped the neon orange gummy into her mouth. HairFuel Plus gummies—her third attempt this month to fix the disaster that was her hair. The TikTok influencer with the perfect waves had promised results in two weeks. It had been thirteen days.

"You good?" Zara asked, not looking up from her phone. They were sitting on Maya's front porch, the August heat sticking their tank tops to their skin.

"Yeah," Maya lied, tugging a strand of her frizzy curls. "Just thinking about sophomore year."

"Same." Zara finally made eye contact. "Are you gonna cut it?"

"My hair?" Maya's hand flew to her head. "No. Why?"

"You keep playing with it like it offended you." Zara shrugged. "It's cute, though. The curls."

Maya almost laughed. Cute wasn't the word she'd use. Her hair was a constant battle, a genetic betrayal from her mother's side, while her dad's whole family had the kind of sleek, manageable hair that required zero effort and zero vitamin supplements.

That's when she saw the cat.

Orange, scruffy, missing half an ear, crouching under the porch steps like it owned the place. It met Maya's gaze with yellow eyes that held exactly zero judgment about her appearance, her failed vitamins, or her general existence.

"That's Mr. Barnaby," Zara said. "Been living here since, like, forever."

"Mr. Barnaby?" Maya raised an eyebrow.

"My little brother named him. He's ancient and extremely rude." Zara leaned forward. "Hey Mr. Barnaby, come say hi to the new girl."

The cat padded forward, sniffed Maya's sneaker, and immediately flopped onto his side, exposing a patchy belly that had clearly seen better days. Maya reached down to pet him, and he let out a sound like a rusty engine.

"He likes you," Zara said, surprised. "He usually hisses at everyone."

Maya's fingers found a soft spot behind his ear. Mr. Barnaby's eyes slid shut in pure, unbothered bliss. He wasn't checking her out. He wasn't wondering if she should've bought the expensive vitamin brand instead. He was just existing, scruffy and one-eared and completely unapologetic about it.

Something in Maya's chest loosened.

"Hey Zara?" she asked, still petting the cat. "Can I tell you something?"

"Always."

Maya took a breath. "I've been lying to you. About being fine with school starting. I'm actually freaking out. I keep trying to fix everything—my hair, my skin, my vibe—and none of it's working."

Zara was quiet for a moment. Then she grinned. "Same. I literally just bought those viral acne patches and they gave me MORE acne."

Mr. Barnaby let out a dramatic yawn, stood up, and headbutted Maya's ankle like it was his job.

"I think he's saying we're being dumb," Zara said.

"Or maybe," Maya suggested, scratching the perfect spot under his chin, "he's saying we're fine exactly like we are."

Mr. Barnaby purred like a broken lawnmower, and Maya felt her shoulders drop for what might have been the first time all summer. Her curls frizzed in the humidity, unbothered. The vitamin gummies sat forgotten in her bag. And somewhere between the orange cat's approval and her best friend's honest confession, Maya decided she might actually be ready for sophomore year after all.