Electric Blue

Maya stood at the edge of the pool clutching her iPhone like it was a lifeline. The screen reflected her face—foundation slightly cakey from the humidity, eyes scanning frantically for the perfect angle. Below her, the water shimmered with that artificial blue glow that only pool chemicals could create, distorting everyone's legs into something alien and weird.

"You gonna post that or what?" Jordan called from inside the pool, splashing water everywhere with zero regard for personal space. He was living his best life, per usual.

"I'm thinking," Maya said, though she wasn't thinking at all. She was procrastinating. The photo—her and the squad looking cute af before senior year—felt wrong somehow. Like she was performing a version of herself that didn't quite fit anymore.

Her mom's voice echoed in her head: *Have you taken your vitamins?* She'd slipped Maya this whole wellness routine routine over summer, convinced it would help with "energy and focus" or whatever the TikTok wellness girlies were claiming that week. Maya had taken them that morning, but honestly? She still felt tired. Not physical tired—something deeper. Like her soul needed a multivitamin or some cringe metaphor like that.

The sky had been weird all afternoon, purple-gray and thick with that pre-storm pressure that made everyone's hair frizz out. Then—CRACK. Lightning split the sky, so bright it left spots in Maya's vision. A collective scream went up from the pool area.

"Everyone out NOW!" the lifeguard shouted.

Chaos. Everyone scrambling for towels, phones, bags. Maya stood frozen for half a second, her iPhone clutched in one hand, watching the lightning spider-web across the clouds like something alive. Something electric hummed through her, sudden and sharp.

She didn't post the photo. Instead, she opened her notes app and started typing something real—about how it felt to be on the edge of everything, watching but never quite diving in. About how she'd spent three months trying to curate a life instead of actually living one.

The rain started, warm and sudden. Jordan grabbed her arm. "Maya, come on! You gonna melt or what?"

She slipped the iPhone into her pocket—unposted, unfiltered, unfinished—and followed him toward the pavilion. The water on her skin felt like a baptism or whatever. For the first time all summer, something inside her felt actually, genuinely vitamin-fortified. Not the supplement kind. The real kind.