The Fox and the Orange Soda

Maya's stomach did that annoying flip-flop thing as she stood outside Tyler's house. The bass from inside rattled the porch railing. She'd spent two hours straightening her hair, only to have the humidity turn it into a frizz cloud the second she stepped outside. Typical.

Inside, the air smelled like cheap body spray and something citrusy. Someone had spilled an orange soda on the carpet, leaving a sticky neon blotch that nobody seemed to care about. Maya grabbed a Red Bull from the cooler, hoping the caffeine would settle her nerves.

"Hey!" Her best friend Chloe appeared from nowhere, dragging her toward the backyard. "You're not gonna believe what Jason just said."

Chloe had been calling everyone "dog" since she discovered TikTok, and Maya was 87% sure she was doing it ironically. Mostly sure.

In the backyard, Tyler — who was apparently God's gift to sophomore year — sat on a lawn chair holding court. His golden retriever, Buster, had wedged himself between Tyler's legs like a fluffy, attention-seeking barricade.

"I'm just saying," Tyler was saying, his voice dropping into that serious tone boys used when they wanted you to think they were deep, "that whole situation was bear." He made air quotes. "Like, genuinely unbearable."

Maya rolled her eyes so hard it hurt. Tyler had never experienced anything worse than a B-minus on a chemistry test.

"Maya!" Tyler spotted her. "You came."

The way he said it — like she was some kind of fox he'd been hunting all semester — made her face heat up. She'd been crushing on him since homeroom, which was pathetic and she knew it. But here she was, suddenly hyper-aware of how her sweaty palms felt against the cold can of energy drink.

"Yeah," she managed. "Here I am."

Buster chose that exact moment to shake himself vigorously, sending droplets of questionable backyard water flying. One landed directly on Tyler's white hoodie.

The whole backyard went quiet for a second before someone snorted. Then Tyler started laughing — actually laughed, not performed it — and suddenly Maya was laughing too, genuinely, her frizzy hair and anxious stomach and all forgotten.

"Good boy, Buster," Tyler said, scratching the dog's ears. He looked at Maya with something like real recognition. "You want to sit?"

Maya took a breath, sat down on the grass, and for the first time all night, felt like she could actually just be herself.