Electric Orange Summer

The pool party at Tyler's house was supposed to be my social renaissance. Instead, I was cornered by his perpetually sheds-everywhere **cat**, a judgmental tabby named Glitter who kept eyeing my Cheetos like I was personally responsible for its empty food bowl.

"Your **orange**-stained fingers are offending her," said Jordan, sliding onto the lounge chair beside me. Jordan, who'd somehow managed to look effortless in a vintage tee while I was over here calculating conversation openers like my life depended on it.

"Glitter looks like she's planning revenge," I said.

"She's **bear**-ly awake," Jordan deadpanned. "Bad pun. I own it."

I laughed before I could stop myself, and Jordan's grin did something suspicious to my heart rate.

Then the sky opened up.

One minute we were roasting in July heat, the next we were scrambling toward the patio as **lightning** shattered the sky into electric spiderwebs. Rain transformed the pool into chaos, everyone screaming and running like we hadn't all spent weeks pretending this party would be the most important night of our lives.

Jordan grabbed my hand. "My basement's got snacks and better WiFi," they shouted over the thunder.

We ended up sharing a blanket on Jordan's couch, Glitter the cat curled judgementally against my leg, watching TikToks while **water** dripped from our hair onto oversized hoodies. No social posturing. No carefully calculated cool.

"This is way better," I said, surprising myself.

"Yeah?" Jordan's knee pressed against mine. "Next time, we skip the party part."

"Next time?" My voice squeaked.

"Yeah. I've been trying to talk to you all semester." Jordan's phone buzzed—Tyler group chat blowing up about the storm. "You're just always so... prepared. Like you've got everything figured out."

"I panic-prepare," I admitted. "It's a whole thing."

Glitter chose that moment to knock over a bowl of orange soda. We laughed until our sides hurt while the **lightning** painted everything electric blue-white outside.

Sometimes the best moments aren't the ones you plan for. They're the ones that find you when you're busy pretending to be someone you're not, surrounded by chaos and cats and someone who sees right through your carefully constructed performance.

"I like this version of you," Jordan said quietly.

"Me too," I realized. "Me too."