The Orange Streak

Maya's legs burned as she rounded the corner, the familiar rhythm of her breath syncing with each footstrike. Running was the only thing that made sense since sophomore year went sideways. Her ex-best friend Chloe had turned the whole cross country team against her with some wicked rumor about Maya stealing band camp money. Total fabrication, but in the social hierarchy of Northwood High, truth was optional.

Coach Miller called her "bull-headed" for refusing to quit the team despite the icy shoulders and whispered comments in the locker room. Whatever. Maya wasn't about to let them chase her off the trail—especially not senior year, especially not when she'd finally started posting decent times.

Then Leo transferred in.

Leo with his messy orange hair that stuck up in the back like he'd just rolled out of bed. Leo who sat behind her in AP English and passed notes that made her actually laugh out loud. Leo who asked if she wanted to go to that house party everyone would be at this weekend.

"I'm not really a party person," she'd said, feeling uncool immediately.

"Me neither," he'd replied, shrugging. "We could bail after twenty minutes. Solidarity in awkwardness."

So now she was here, music thumping through the basement, red Solo cups everywhere, watching Leo across the room talking to some junior whose Instagram was basically a shrine to herself. Maya leaned against the wall, nursing some watery punch, feeling like the most awkward human on the planet.

The Sphinx of social situations: answer her riddle wrong and you're dead. Or worse, ignored.

Then she spotted Chloe heading toward her with that fake-sweet smile—the one that meant something was about to go down. Chloe and two of her minions, closing in like sharks that smelled blood.

Maya's heart kicked into sprint mode. She could run. She was literally good at running. But her feet wouldn't move.

"Hey Maya," Chloe said, way too loud. "Leo was just asking about you. Too bad you're—" she gestured vaguely at Maya's plain black hoodie and jeans "—you know."

The junior with Leo laughed.

Before Maya could even process, Leo was there. Orange-haired Leo, who'd apparently crossed the room in record time.

"Actually," Leo said, sliding an arm around Maya's shoulders like they'd been friends forever, "Maya and I were just leaving. Weren't we?"

He looked at her with this crooked grin, half-question, half-challenge.

Maya's brain short-circuited. "Uh. Yeah. Actually."

They walked out into the cool night air, leaving Chloe open-mouthed and the junior confused. The moon was huge, casting everything in silver light.

"Sorry about that," Leo said. "Chloe's been trying to get with me since I transferred. She's... a lot."

"That's one word for it," Maya said, and they both laughed.

"Want to go get food? I know this place that stays open late. Best orange chicken in town."

Maya smiled, something in her chest finally loosening. "I'm sold."