Under the Hat

The beanie was practically glued to my head by third period. Freshman year was already hitting different without announcing I'd buzzed my hair off over the weekend.

"You good, Mars?" Tyler asked, sliding into the seat next to me. His perfect curls were doing that effortless thing I'd spent years trying to achieve. "You never wear hats inside."

"Just cold," I lied. The cafeteria felt like a sauna.

The truth? I'd watched one too many TikTok glow-ups, grabbed my brother's clippers, and went full send. Zero chill. The result wasn't edgy. It wasn't a statement. It looked like a cat had chewed on my forehead while I slept.

A **cat** who, incidentally, was currently sitting on my bathroom mirror judging my life choices.

My **hair**—or what remained of it—had patches. Uneven patches. I looked like I'd lost a fight with a lawnmower. My mom had literally gasped when she saw me. My dad just nodded slowly and asked if I wanted to borrow his Seahawks beanie.

The hat was my only hope.

Then Tyler reached out and the worst thing happened.

His fingers caught the rim of my beanie and—yoink—snatched it right off my head.

Time stopped. The entire table went quiet. I could feel my face burning like a chemical peel treatment.

"Dude," someone whispered.

Tyler stared at my head, then at me. I waited for it. The laugh. The roast. The "what happened to you" that would echo through the rest of high school.

"Actually," Tyler said, turning the beanie over in his hands, "it looks kind of sick? Like, you're going for that French girl vibe?"

"My cat attacked me," I blurted out. The first excuse that came to mind. Definitely the wrong one.

"Your **cat** did THIS?" Tyler grinned, and something in his expression wasn't mean. It was... impressed? "That's hardcore." He handed back my hat but didn't make me put it on.

"Keep it off," he said, softer. "You look brave. I've been growing mine out since seventh grade because I'm scared to cut it."

I touched the fuzz on my head. It wasn't perfect. It wasn't what I planned.

But maybe that was okay.

"Thanks," I said, and for the first time all day, I actually meant it.

The hat stayed in my backpack. My hair stayed a mess. And Tyler? Tyler kept sitting next to me at lunch.