Kitchen Lightning

The kitchen was the only safe room at Maya's party, and I was currently trapped between a half-empty veggie tray and my own catastrophic awkwardness. My phone buzzed in my hand — three unread texts from my best friend asking where I'd disappeared to.

"You're missing it," Chloe had written. "Jordan's actually looking for you."

Yeah, right. Jordan, the junior varsity soccer captain with the stupidly perfect smile, was definitely not searching for the girl who'd spent the last twenty minutes hiding behind a refrigerator door. I reached for what I thought was a cucumber and took a desperate bite.

Spinach. Of course it was spinach. And based on my reflection in the microwave door, I now had a forest of green bits wedged between my front teeth.

I was frantically trying to dislodge them with my tongue when someone cleared their throat behind me.

"I mean," said the voice, "the spinach look is bold, but I don't think it's gonna catch on."

I spun around. There he was. Jordan. Standing in Maya's kitchen. Smiling that smile.

"I —" My brain short-circuited. "I was just —"

"Hiding?" He stepped closer. "Yeah, me too. These parties are exhausting sometimes."

He reached past me to grab a water bottle, his arm brushing mine. Something electric hummed between us, like the air before a storm. I couldn't tell if I was hallucinating or if he was actually leaning in.

"Hey," he said softly. "Can I show you something? Cool spot."

He led me through the back door onto the porch. The night air hit my face as we stepped into the darkness, away from the thumping bass and flashing strobe lights inside. And there, at the edge of the yard, a fox stood watching us — its eyes catching the moonlight, impossibly still.

"He comes to every party," Jordan whispered. "Just watches from the woods. Like he's making sure we don't do anything too stupid."

The fox's tail flicked once, almost like a wave, before it melted back into the shadows.

"He likes you," Jordan said, turning to me. "He never stays that long."

Then, as if on cue, lightning cracked the sky open — a brilliant flash that illuminated everything: the yard, the treeline, and Jordan's face, inches from mine now, his eyes searching mine with something that looked terrifyingly like genuine interest.

"Your teeth are fine, by the way," he said as the thunder rumbled above us. "I mean, they were never really the problem."

I couldn't breathe. Couldn't think. Could only stand there as rain began to fall, wondering if the most embarrassing moment of my life had just become the best one, and whether I should even care about the spinach anymore.