Electric Fish

The party was already mid when Maya showed up, fashionably late because her mom had insisted on giving her The Talk about peer pressure and spiked punch. Which, honestly, was exactly the kind of thing that made Maya want to die on the spot.

Jake's house was packed, bass thumping through the floorboards, people spilling into the backyard where someone had set up a beer pong table. Maya grabbed a Solo cup of something suspiciously red and found herself cornered by Brittany, who was holding her new goldfish in a bowl like it was a Chanel bag.

"His name is Glitter," Brittany announced. "Want to hold him?"

Before Maya could properly assess the life choices that had led to this moment, Brittany's golden retriever burst through the sliding door, tail clearing half the coffee table in one swing. The dog—named Biscuit, because Brittany's family was apparently committed to a theme—took one look at Glitter and went full velociraptor.

"NO BISCUIT" Brittany shrieked, already too late.

The fishbowl flew. Maya caught it mid-air with reflexes she didn't know she possessed, heart hammering like she'd just cheated death. Glitter swam around, completely unimpressed by his near-death experience.

Outside, the sky cracked open. Lightning fractured the darkness, illuminating thirty teenagers frozen mid-action like some weird tableau. Then thunder shook the house's foundation.

"Party's over!" someone yelled, and suddenly it was chaos—people grabbing phones, scrambling for shoes, trying to figure out who they'd ridden with.

Maya ended up on Brittany's covered porch with six strangers, watching the storm destroy the rest of the night. Someone had brought out papaya slices from the aborted snack table, and they sat there eating tropical fruit in the rain like this was totally normal.

"Your goldfish almost became dog food," Maya said, because it needed to be said.

"Glitter's a survivor," Brittany replied with a shrug. "Kinda like us."

They sat there until the lightning stopped, until the papaya was gone, until the awkwardness transformed into something like solidarity. Maya's phone buzzed—her mom, somehow sensing the party had imploded.

"You need a ride?" Brittany asked.

"Yeah," Maya said. "Actually, I really do."