Zombie Hair & Cable TV

The **cable** had been out for three days, which meant no Netflix, no Instagram, and absolutely no distraction from the fact that my **hair** looked like a zombie had attacked it with highlighter.

"Maya, you're being dramatic," Mom said, leaning against my doorframe. "It's sun-kissed."

"It's orange, Mom. Like, specifically Cheetos orange." I pulled my hood up. "I can't go to Jessica's **pool** party looking like this. Everyone will think I'm trying too hard."

This was the thing about being fourteen: every insecurity felt life-or-death. A bad haircut wasn't just a bad haircut—it was social suicide. Jessica's party was basically the launch event for summer, and I'd been psyching myself up for weeks. Now I was ready to fake a contagious illness.

"So don't go," Mom shrugged. "Stay here. The cable guy's coming between twelve and six, which means sometime next Tuesday. You can help me wait."

I groaned and flopped onto my bed. That's when my phone buzzed.

*where u at? pool's heated and nobody's looking at anyone's hair except their own - chloe*

Chloe, who once showed up to school with her shirt inside out and made it a trend. Chloe, who I'd been friends with since kindergarten but suddenly felt uncool around ever since middle school split everyone into new categories.

I stared at my reflection. The orange wasn't going away. Neither was the anxiety. But maybe that was the point—maybe everyone was too busy worrying about their own stuff to notice mine.

The zombie marathon I'd been watching on cable flashed through my mind. All those characters, terrified of being seen, of being different, of standing out. And then they'd band together and realize being different was what made them survive.

"I'm going," I said, grabbing my towel.

"You're brave," Mom called after me.

"No," I yelled back. "I'm just done hiding in my room."

Walking to Jessica's, I practiced breathing. When I got there, Chloe waved me over, her own hair sporting fresh green streaks.

"Love your orange," she said, grinning. "Matches your vibe."

I jumped into the pool, orange hair and all, and for the first time all summer, I didn't feel like a zombie at all. I felt like me—flaws and everything.