The Hat, The Hound, The Heart

Maya pulled her beanie hat lower over her eyebrows, grateful for the slight shadow it cast. If she couldn't see everyone clearly, maybe they couldn't see her either—couldn't see the way her hands trembled around her iPhone as she pretended to scroll through absolutely nothing.

"You good?" Ethan asked, dropping onto the couch beside her. His shoulder brushed hers, and Maya's heart did this embarrassingly fluttery thing.

"Yeah, just... charging issues." She waved her phone vaguely. The charging cable was somewhere in her backpack, which was somewhere under a pile of three people's jackets. Classic Maya move—arrive at a party, immediately lose her stuff.

"Borrow mine?" He pulled a tangled white cord from his pocket. "It's gross, but like, functional."

Their fingers touched when she reached for it, and Maya almost forgot how to breathe. Meanwhile, her parents' golden retriever, Buster, was absolutely thriving. He'd already made friends with half the party, currently sprawled across the rug while some freshman named Tyler scratched behind his ears.

"Your dog is living his best life," Ethan said, watching Buster snort happily.

"Yeah, he's better at people than I am."

"That's not true." Ethan's voice softened. "I mean, he's definitely got game, but you're pretty cool too."

Buster chose that exact moment to shake his entire body, sending a spray of droog water across Maya's jeans. Someone must've let him in the backyard earlier.

"Oh my GOD, Buster!" Maya buried her face in her hands, hat nearly falling off. "I am so sorry, he's never—"

Ethan was laughing. Not mean laughing, but actual genuine laughing, head thrown back, braces showing.

"Maya, chill. It's just water." He bumped her shoulder again. "Besides, now we're matching. I spilled juice on myself like ten minutes ago."

She looked down. Sure enough, there was a sticky purple stain on his hoodie.

"Why didn't you say something?"

"I was trying to play it cool." He grinned. "Clearly failed, but points for effort."

Buster, satisfied with his chaos contribution, trotted over and deposited his slobbery tennis ball directly in Ethan's lap.

"I think he likes you," Maya said, feeling something warm and light spread through her chest.

"Yeah?" Ethan tossed the ball, and Buster scrambled after it. "Well, I think I like his owner."

Maya's phone buzzed with a text from her mom asking if she needed a ride, but for the first time all night, she didn't reach for it. She just sat there, dog slobber on her jeans, happiness bubbling up like carbonation. This teenage agony stuff? Maybe it wasn't so bad after all.