The Dog, The Goldfish, and Everything

Maya's mom meant well with the DIY haircut. She really did. But staring at her reflection in the bathroom mirror, Maya could only see what looked like a lawnmower incident on the left side of her head. Her hair—previously waist-length waves—was now uneven, jagged, and absolutely not suitable for picture day tomorrow.

"This is fine," she whispered to herself. "This is totally fine."

Her golden retriever, Barnaby, nudged her knee with his wet nose. He was the only one who understood.

"At least YOU don't care about my hair, Barns."

Maya slumped to the floor beside Barnaby and stared at her goldfish, Neptune, swimming in endless circles on her dresser. "What do you think, buddy? Should I just fake sick tomorrow?"

Neptune blinked his fishy mouth and continued doing laps.

Downstairs, her dad was making dinner. The smell of garlic and sautéed spinach drifted up through the floorboards. At least some things were normal.

Her phone buzzed. Jordan: u coming to jake's party tonight??

Maya typed out "can't" then backspaced. Her friends would understand. Maybe. But somehow, the thought of showing up with this haircut made her chest feel tight.

Barnaby whined and rested his chin on her knee. Outside, summer lightning flickered across the sky—silent and distant, like someone taking flash photos of clouds.

"You know what?" Maya said, standing up suddenly. "Whatever."

She grabbed her phone.

Maya: yeah omw

She texted Jordan back, then found her beanie. The hair could be dealt with later. Jake's party would have snacks. Hopefully not spinach.

Barnaby barked approvingly.

Somehow, that made everything feel okay.