← All Stories

Flash Point

orangevitaminfriendlightningiphone

The sky turned that weird orange color again — like someone had spilled Fanta across the clouds. I stared at my iPhone, watching Maya's profile picture stay stubbornly offline. Three weeks since our fight, and she still hadn't unblocked me.

"You need your vitamin C," she used to say, pushing those gross orange gummies at me during lunch. "You're always getting sick." I'd roll my eyes but take them anyway because that's what best friends did — they tolerated each other's weird habits.

Now I sat alone at our usual table, absentmindedly touching the empty space where she used to sit. The friend group had split like mitochondria, everyone choosing sides. I hated it.

The first rumble of thunder made everyone look up. Good timing, universe. Really nailing the atmosphere.

I shoved my phone in my pocket and headed outside, needing air that didn't smell like cafeteria food and awkwardness. The storm was building fast — purple clouds stacking like they were late for something important.

Then came the lightning. Not the distant stuff, but the real deal — spider-webbing across the sky in jagged white lines that made everything look like a negative photograph for one heartbeat.

My phone buzzed.

I fumbled for it, nearly dropping it in the grass. Unknown number. But I knew.

"Did you see the lightning?" Maya's voice came through clear, like she'd never stopped calling. "It's literally insane out here."

"Yeah," I said, my voice doing that weird cracking thing. "It's actually cool."

Silence for a second. Then: "I missed you. This is stupid."

"So stupid," I agreed, and something in my chest unlocked.

"You still taking those vitamin gummies?" she asked, and I could hear the smile in her voice.

"No. They're gross."

"Good. I only gave them to you because my mom made me. I hate them too."

We both laughed, and the sound felt like coming home. The storm raged on behind us, orange sky and purple clouds and lightning that kept splitting the darkness, but none of that mattered anymore.

Some things are worth the wait. Even if they take three weeks and a literal lightning strike to happen.