Bear Float Lightning

The spinach wrap was my first mistake.

Maya's pool party. The invite had been a total surprise — me, the new girl who'd moved to town two weeks ago, actually getting invited to something. My mom, in her infinite wisdom, had made me promise to eat before I went, 'so you don't look desperate hovering by the chips like a starving animal.' So I'd wolfed down a spinach wrap in the car like a goblin.

Now I was standing by the edge of Maya's inground pool, watching the popular kids splash around, hyper-aware of the invisible green stuff probably lodged between my teeth. Maya herself was sprawled across a giant inflatable bear float in the middle of the water, looking effortless in a bikini that definitely cost more than my entire wardrobe.

'Hey!' she called, waving. 'Get in!'

I hesitated. 'I, uh —'

'Don't be weird about it,' someone said. Too loudly. A few people laughed. I felt my face burn.

I was still deciding whether to fake an emergency text and bolt when the sky opened up.

Lightning cracked across the horizon — way too close. Thunder rattled the pool furniture. Someone screamed.

'INSIDE! NOW!' Maya's dad shouted from the back door.

We scrambled. In the chaos, I accidentally kicked Maya's bear float, sending it spinning across the water. She shot me a look that said, nice going, loser.

Twenty of us ended up crowded in Maya's basement, wet and shivering while the storm raged outside. Maya's mom tried to get the cable TV working for a movie, but it was dead — the lightning must have hit something.

'So,' someone said after an awkward silence. 'Now what?'

I found myself squeezed next to Maya on a too-small couch, our bare arms touching. Up close, she didn't look so effortless anymore. She looked nervous.

'Sorry about your bear float,' I said quietly.

She laughed, surprised. 'It's fine. My brother won it at a carnival. It's tacky as hell.' She turned to me, really looked at me. 'I was glad you came.'

'Yeah?'

'Yeah. Everyone else acts like they've known each other forever. You're — I don't know. Real.' She paused. 'Is that... spinach in your teeth?'

I groaned, covering my mouth. 'That's been there all night, hasn't it?'

'Since you walked in the door,' she grinned. 'But I was too scared to say anything.'

We dissolved into laughter — actual, real laughter — while lightning flashed through the basement windows, turning everything strobe-light bright for split seconds.

'Tomorrow,' Maya said, still giggling, 'we're hanging out again. And this time, I'll check your teeth first.'

The storm outside didn't seem so scary anymore. For the first time since I'd moved to this town, something actually felt like it might be okay.