The Vitamin D Incident

The orange hat sat on my desk like a traffic cone. Mom had bought it for the beach, thinking somehow it would protect my pale skin from the sun's rays. "Take your vitamin D supplement too," she'd called after me this morning, like that was going to help me survive Maya's back-to-school party.

I jammed the hat onto my head anyway. Anything to distract from the fact that I was showing up solo to what was basically the social event of the season. My phone was at 4% because SOMEONE (me) had forgotten their charging cable at home, and now I couldn't even doom-scroll in the bathroom to avoid awkward conversations.

The party was already popping when I arrived. Maya's backyard had been transformed into a legit outdoor paradise with string lights and a Spotify playlist that slapped. I immediately spotted Corey and his crew by the drinks, doing that thing where they looked like they were having the best time ever but were actually just standing there being performative.

"Nice hat." The voice came from behind me, and I turned to see Leo from my English class. He was wearing this vintage band tee that I would 100% wear if I had any fashion sense whatsoever.

"Thanks, it's my sun protection aesthetic," I said, and then wanted to die immediately. WHO says that?

But Leo laughed. Actually laughed, not in a mean way. "I feel that. I burn in like five minutes. My mom's always on me about sunscreen and vitamins and stuff."

We ended up talking for twenty minutes about everything from our embarrassing middle school phases to why Netflix originals are hit or miss. The whole time, I could feel my palm sweating every time he looked directly at me, which was often.

The best part? When I finally did check my phone (RIP to my 2% battery), I had three texts from Corey asking where I was. Instead of stressing about FOMO like I usually would, I just turned the phone off completely.

Sometimes the best moments happen when you're cut off from everything, wearing ridiculous accessories, and actually talking to people instead of worrying about what you look like on your feed. The orange hat stayed on all night. It became a thing. Leo even tried it on at one point, looking like a confused traffic cone, and I thought I might actually die from how hard I laughed.

Turns out, the only vitamin I actually needed was vitamin Connection. And maybe vitamin Courage. Okay, I'll stop with the dad jokes now. But you get it.