The Vitamin Protocol

Marcus dragged himself into homeroom feeling like a straight-up zombie. Three hours of doom-scrolling on his phone, another two binge-watching that new cable show everyone was hyping, and now here he was — operating on zero sleep and maximum regret.

"You look dead, bro," Carlos whispered, sliding into the desk beside him.

"Thanks. That's the vibe."

Marcus ran a hand through his hair. The purple dye job he'd attempted yesterday had turned into a disaster — patchy, uneven, with his natural curls peeking through like awkward witnesses to a crime. His mom had literally cried when she saw it. "Why can't you just look normal?"

Whatever normal meant.

"Jordan's looking at you," Carlos said, barely keeping a straight face.

And sure enough, Jordan was staring. Not with the usual disgust though. With... something else.

Jordan, who had somehow come out as nonbinary to the entire sophomore class without making it weird. Jordan, whose hair was always perfect, whose confidence seemed powered by some internal nuclear reactor Marcus couldn't access.

Marcus's stomach did that thing it always did around Jordan — a whole gymnastics routine.

"I like your hair," Jordan said, suddenly appearing at Marcus's desk.

"It's a mess."

"It's brave. My parents would literally kill me."

"My mom almost did cry. It was... a moment."

Jordan laughed, and Marcus felt something warm unfurl in his chest.

"Hey," Jordan said, pulling something from their pocket. A multivitamin. "My mom's got me on this vitamin kick. Says it helps with stress, or focus, or literally whatever she read on Instagram this week. Want one?"

Marcus took it, their fingers brushing for a second too long. "Sure. Why not."

"Cool."

Jordan paused. "So, there's this party on Friday. At Derek's. You should come."

The bull in the cafeteria — literal bull energy, not the animal — that was the social hierarchy at this school. But Jordan was inviting him anyway.

"Maybe," Marcus said, already knowing he'd be there.

"Cool," Jordan said again, like that one word could mean everything.

Marcus watched them walk away, the vitamin still in his hand. Maybe this year wouldn't be about becoming normal after all. Maybe it would be about becoming someone who could show up to a party with patchy purple hair and feel like he belonged.

He swallowed the vitamin dry. It didn't taste like courage, but he'd take what he could get.