The Riddle of Orange Hair

Maya's hair had been every shade of the rainbow this semester, but orange was supposed to be different. Orange was supposed to be her. Instead, she was currently hiding under a beanie hat that smelled like her brother's gym bag, sitting on a bench next to the school's mascot — a concrete sphinx that looked like it had seen better decades.

"You look like you're plotting murder," said RJ, dropping onto the bench beside her. His snapback read VITAMIN WATER in faded letters.

"I'm plotting my funeral," Maya muttered. "My hair turned out more Cheeto than sunset."

RJ actually laughed. "Maya, literally nobody cares. You're the only one staring at the bathroom mirror like it's a crime scene."

Easy for him to say. RJ could wear a potato sack and still get called drip. Maya had spent three hours last night watching tutorials, mixing bleach and dye like she was conducting some dark chemistry experiment, only to emerge looking like a traffic cone.

"Harper's gonna roast me."

"Harper thinks she's the main character of everyone's life." RJ pulled out his phone. "Hey, you know that riddle thing? What walks on four legs in the morning, two at noon—"

"Dude, that's the worst sphinx impression ever."

"I'm being philosophical!" He grinned. "But seriously, what's the actual answer?"

"A person. Crawling as a baby, walking as an adult, using a cane when old. My mom told me that when I was seven and thought I was profound for a week."

RJ nodded thoughtfully. "Deep. So what's your riddle?"

"What?"

"Your deal, Maya. You keep changing your hair like you're trying to find the right shade for who you're supposed to be. But you're already chill. You literally got Harper through her breakup with that gym bro even though she's awful to you. You helped me study for bio when I was definitely failing. You're lowkey the best person here, and you're hiding under a hat because of ... what? Orange hair?"

Maya stared at him. The wind was picking up, cold against her November jacket. Somewhere across the quad, Harper was laughing with her friends, that bright, confident laugh that made everyone want to be near her.

"You think I'm chill?"

"I think you're overthinking it." RJ stood up. "Also, orange hair kinda slaps. Very iconic."

Maya reached up and pulled off her hat.

Her hair was definitely orange. Definitely brighter than she'd planned. But the sun was actually catching it, turning it into something almost gold, and RJ was right — nobody was staring. Nobody was pointing. The world kept spinning, Harper kept laughing, and Maya's hair was just ... hair.

"Okay," she said. "Okay."

"There she is," RJ said, and fist-bumped her before walking away.

Maya sat back against the sphinx and closed her eyes, letting the wind hit her orange, orange hair. She'd probably dye it blue next week. But for now, this was fine. She was fine.