Electric Heartbeat

The house party thumped like a dying heartbeat, bass vibrating through the soles of my knock-off Vans. I leaned against the wall in the kitchen, clutching a red plastic cup of lukewarm soda, feeling like a total **zombie**. Three days of finals, four hours of sleep nightly, and here I was—socializing. Or what passed for socializing when you were too exhausted to form complete sentences.

"You look like you're about to pass out," said a girl with purple-streaked hair and eyes that actually looked concerned. She held out a bottle. "Emergen-C. Immune support. My mom's obsessed."

"Thanks." I downed the **vitamin** drink like it was liquid gold. "I'm Maya."

"Haley." She grinned. "You go to North too?"

We ended up on the back porch, away from the sweaty press of bodies. The air smelled like rain and cheap cologne. Haley traced lines on my **palm** with her finger, laughing as she pretended to read my future. "I see... absolute exhaustion. Also, you're going to meet someone cool tonight."

"Is that so?" I asked, feeling something weird and fluttery in my chest that had nothing to do with caffeine.

**Lightning** split the sky—white-hot electricity that made the backyard look like a photograph. Then thunder shook the porch boards. Someone screamed inside, but neither of us moved. Rain began to fall, soft at first, then sudden and heavy, plastering our hair to our foreheads.

"We should go inside," Haley said, but she didn't move either.

"In a minute."

We sat there getting soaked, talking about everything and nothing—her weird collection of vintage band tees, my obsession with horror movies, how high school felt like one long performance we were all failing. The rain washed away my zombie state, replaced by something electric and alive.

When my mom's headlights finally swept the driveway, I didn't want to leave. "Can I get your number?" I asked, feeling my face heat up despite the cold rain.

Haley pulled out her phone with a smile. "Only if you promise to actually text. Not that ghosting nonsense."

"Deal."

As I walked toward my mom's car, soaked to the bone but buzzing with something I hadn't felt in forever, I realized sometimes you don't need energy drinks to wake up. Sometimes you just need one person, one storm, one moment that makes you feel like the main character instead of an extra.