Goldfish Protocol

Maya's hair was a disaster zone. She'd spent two hours trying to perfect beach waves, but humidity had other plans. Now her frizz rivalled her neighbor's electrocuted poodle — that poor dog always looked like it'd stuck a paw in an electrical socket.

"You look fine," Chloe said, not looking up from her phone. They were outside Lucas's house, where music thumped against the windows like a heartbeat.

Maya smoothed her dress again. "Fine isn't party ready."

"Nobody's party ready. We're all just faking it."

Inside, the air smelled like papaya candles and teenage desperation. Someone had scattered goldfish crackers everywhere like party confetti, which was actually kind of genius except for the crunch underfoot. Maya spotted Lucas across the room, laughing with his friends like he didn't have a care in the world. She'd been crushing on him since seventh grade, when he'd let her borrow his history textbook and hadn't even complained when she spilled juice on page 134.

"Go talk to him," Chloe shoved her shoulder.

"I can't just —"

Then it happened. Lightning flashed through the window, illuminating everything in stark white. The power flickered. Music died. In the sudden darkness, someone screamed.

Maya's phone flashlight cut through the chaos. Lucas was right there, suddenly close enough that she could see the faint constellation of freckles across his nose.

"You okay?" he asked.

"Yeah," she said, though her heart was hammering like she'd run a marathon. "Just... unexpected lighting."

He laughed, and she realized she'd made a joke. On purpose. "Your hair looks cool, by the way," he said. "Like you just rolled out of bed and didn't care what anyone thought."

Maya touched her frizz. "That's the look I was going for."

"It works." He offered her a papaya-colored punch cup. "Want some?

She took it, suddenly realizing nobody was actually watching her, judging her hair, or counting her awkward moments. They were all just trying to survive this weird ritual called high school together, crunching goldfish crackers under their feet and pretending they knew what they were doing.

"I'm Maya," she said, and for the first time all night, she didn't feel like apologizing for existing.

"Lucas," he grinned, like he didn't already know. "Want to help me clean up these crackers before someone breaks their neck?"

Maya smiled, her frizzy hair and all. "Absolutely."