Life at 5%
The social pyramid at Northwood High was real, and Maya had been plotting its coordinates since seventh grade. At the top: the varsity jacket crew. Somewhere in the middle: theater kids, band geeks, the people who actually cared about GPA. And at the bottom? That would be Maya, currently clinging to the wall at Jackson's house party, watching her **iPhone** battery dip to 5%.
"You're blocking the cable," someone said, and Maya jumped, realizing she was literally standing on the thick white cord that snaked across the living room floor. The partygoers who'd brought Guitar Hero were not impressed.
"Sorry," she mumbled, sidestepping into the kitchen. Because nothing says "cool teenager" like hovering awkwardly near the snack spread.
That's when she saw him. Tyler. Varsity soccer, perfectly messy hair, currently assembling a sandwich with meticulous precision. He caught her eye. "Hey, aren't you in Mr. Harrison's history class?"
Maya's brain short-circuited. "Yeah! The one where he accidentally called the Civil War 'that little disagreement.'"
Tyler laughed. Actually laughed. "Exactly. I'm Tyler, by the way."
"Maya."
"Cool name. Hey, want some?" He gestured to the sandwich fixings. "I'm making this weird **spinach** thing because my mom says I need to eat more vegetables, but honestly? It's not terrible."
The social pyramid in Maya's head tilted on its axis. Tyler - varsity Tyler - was voluntarily eating spinach? And offering her some?
"Sure," she said, reaching for a tortilla. "My parents are basically the same way. Last week they tried to make kale chips and it was like eating actual grass."
They spent the next twenty minutes talking about nothing and everything - history class, terrible school lunches, how both their phones were dying ("Mine's at 3%," Tyler admitted). For the first time all night, Maya forgot about the social hierarchy, forgot about her own dwindling phone battery.
When her iPhone finally buzzed its last breath and went dark, she didn't even care. Some things were better than 100% charge.