The Orange Hat Incident

The orange hat was Maya's mom's idea. "You'll blend right in," she'd said, handing over the neon monstrosity. Now Maya stood at the baseball stadium, sixteen years old and glowing like a radioactive traffic cone.

"Nice hat," Jordan said, appearing beside her. Maya's stomach did that embarrassing flutter thing. Jordan, with their perfectly imperfect hair and actual baseball knowledge.

"Thanks," Maya squeaked. "My mom... you know."

"Cool moms are the best," Jordan said, and Maya wasn't sure if they were being sarcastic or not. She felt like a zombie — technically alive, but mostly just stumbling through social situations without a brain.

The game started. Everyone cheered. Maya clapped because that's what people did.

"You hungry?" Jordan asked. "I was gonna hit the concession stand."

"Starving," Maya lied. She'd eaten enough nervous energy before arriving to fuel a small army.

They walked together, shoulders almost touching. Maya concentrated on not tripping. The concession stand smelled like artificial butter and desperation. Jordan bought an orange — just a regular orange, in the middle of all the processed stadium food.

"My grandma says vitamin C helps with game anxiety," Jordan explained, peeling it with practiced fingers. "Want half?"

"Sure," Maya said, because why not? Jordan handed her a piece, their fingers brushing. Maya's face burned hotter than the orange hat.

The crowd roared. Someone hit a home run. Maya watched Jordan watch the game, their profile illuminated by stadium lights, juice dripping down their chin, and suddenly the hat didn't matter anymore.

"Hey," Jordan said, nudging her. "You know what?"

"What?"

"Your hat's actually kinda sick. It's so bright, I can always find you in the crowd." Jordan grinned. "Like a beacon."

Maya smiled. "Yeah?"

"Yeah. Anyway, want to come to next week's game? I have an extra ticket."

The orange hat wasn't so bad after all. Sometimes the things that made you feel like a zombie — awkward, out of place, not quite real — were just things that made you easier to find by the people who mattered.