The Hat, The Dog, Everything Else

Leo's black beanie was basically fused to his skull at this point. Freshman year at Northwood High, and he'd already figured out the universal law of social survival: keep your head down, your hood up, and never make eye contact in the hallways.

Then came The Incident.

He'd been cutting through the Millers' backyard—shortcut, obviously—when Buster, their terrifying golden retriever mix, launched himself at the fence. Leo's backpack caught on a loose **cable** snaking through the grass, probably from the Millers' attempted DIY internet setup. He faceplanted. The beanie flew off. Buster caught it like a frisbee.

"NO!" Leo yelled, scrambling up. "**DOG**, DROP IT."

Buster tilted his head, tail wagging, beanie proudly clenched in his jaws like some gross prize.

"Leo?"

He froze. Maya Chen—actual Maya Chen, who sat behind him in English and wrote poetry in the margins of her notebook—stood on her back porch, holding a coffee mug. She was wearing this oversized **hat** that looked like something from a vintage store, all floppy and confident.

"That's your... emergency escape wig?" she asked.

Leo felt his face burning. "It's a beanie. And that's a serial killer hat."

She laughed. Actually laughed. "Bold opinion for someone whose head just got introduced to my lawn."

Buster trotted over and dropped the beanie at her feet.

"Traitor," Leo muttered.

Maya picked it up, dusted it off, and held it out. "You know, I've seen you. In English. You're always hiding under this thing."

"It's comfortable."

"Or you're hiding."

The way she said it—no accusation, just observation—hit him somewhere deep. Maybe Buster hadn't just stolen his beanie. Maybe he'd stolen Leo's excuse.

"You want it back?" Maya asked, shaking it slightly.

Leo looked at her, really looked at her, and something in his chest shifted. "Keep it."

"What?"

"I mean—no. I mean, I'll take it. But I'm gonna try not wearing it tomorrow."

Maya smiled, and Leo realized he'd been looking at the ground this whole conversation.

"Good," she said. "I've been wondering what you actually look like."

Buster barked, and Leo laughed—for real this time.

Some dogs fetch sticks. Buster fetched people out of their own heads.