The Orange Cat Behind the Bleachers

Maya felt like a total creep, but she couldn't stop checking Zahra's Instagram stories every morning before first period. It wasn't like she was some obsessive stalker-type person, but knowing everything about Zahra's life—the perfect outfits, the weekend parties, the way she made everything look effortless—made Maya feel slightly less invisible. Like she was a spy gathering intelligence on a world she'd never actually inhabit.

That Tuesday, behind the bleachers during lunch (where Maya retreated when the cafeteria noise became too much), she spotted an orange cat nosing around a discarded sandwich wrapper. The cat looked as out of place as Maya felt—scruffy, bright orange fur sticking up weirdly, watching her with these judging yellow eyes.

"Hey, little guy," Maya whispered, pulling part of her granola bar from her pocket.

The cat approached cautiously, then let her scratch behind its ears. Its fur was surprisingly soft.

"Orange, huh? Bold choice for a stray. You're basically screaming 'notice me.'"

"Who're you talking to?"

Maya jumped. Zahra stood there, holding a vape pen like it was a natural extension of her hand. Her eyes were rimmed with smudged eyeliner, dark circles underneath.

"Just... this cat." Maya gestured weakly.

Zahra crouched down, let the cat bump its head against her palm. "He's been back here for weeks. I named him Cheeto."

They sat there for ten minutes while Zahra complained about her mom's new boyfriend and how fake everyone was at lunch. Maya just listened, her heart doing this weird fluttery thing.

"Your hat's sick," Zahra said suddenly, touching the brim of Maya's oversized dad-hat.

"Oh. Thanks."

"Wanna ditch? We can get Cheeto some actual food."

Maya's stomach did a flip. "Yeah. Okay."

As they walked toward the 7-Eleven, Zahra's arm brushed against hers, and Maya realized she didn't feel invisible anymore. Not even a little bit.