Cracked Screens and Vitamin Chasers

Maya's first day at GreenLeaf Wellness and she already wanted to disappear. Her mom had made her take some vitamin B complex that morning, saying it'd help with her "social energy," but honestly? She just felt jittery.

The worst part wasn't the stupid green apron or having to memorize fifty types of protein powder. It was her iPhone—cracked screen, ancient model, completely embarrassing compared to everyone else's pristine devices at school. She kept it hidden in her pocket like contraband.

"Hey, new girl," said Reed, the cute shift lead with actual styled hair. "There's a cat situation."

"A what?"

"Outside. The orange one. She's been hanging around the dumpster all week."

Maya followed him out back. Sure enough, a scrawny orange cat was pawing at a discarded protein bar wrapper.

"I've been calling her Garfield," Reed said. "Original, I know."

"That's a boy cat," Maya said before she could stop herself.

Reed looked at her, actually looked at her, and laughed. "Okay, smart. What would you name her?"

"I don't know. Something that sounds tough. Like... Bear."

"Bear? For a cat?"

"Because she's survived out here, right? That's bear energy." Why was she talking so much?

Reard's phone buzzed—iPhone 15, perfect screen. He checked it, then something weird happened. He didn't walk away. He sat down on the curb, next to the cat.

"My mom keeps trying to get me to take those focus vitamins," he said out of nowhere. "Says it'll help with my SAT prep. I keep hiding them in my sock drawer."

Maya sat too. "My mom makes me take them every morning. I pretend to swallow them, then spit them in the trash when she's not looking."

Reed cracked up. "You're kind of a rebel, Maya."

Bear the cat head-butted Maya's sneaker. Her cracked iPhone buzzed in her pocket—her mom asking if work was going okay. She didn't check it.

"Hey," Reed said. "After work, want to help me figure out how to actually catch Bear? Take her to that shelter on 4th?"

Maya smiled, feeling something real and unjittery for the first time all day. "Yeah. Yeah, I do."

Maybe her mom was right about the vitamins. Or maybe she'd just found something better than energy—a moment that was entirely, imperfectly hers.