Lightning Cat Smile

Maya pressed her back against the bathroom door, heart hammering like she'd just finished a 5K. Not that she'd ever actually finished a 5K, but still. The bass from downstairs thudded through the floorboards, making her teeth vibrate.

"You okay in there?" her best friend Jade had texted twenty minutes ago. Maya hadn't replied.

Outside, lightning cracked the sky open, and she jumped. Her cat, Pickles, was probably hiding under the bed at home, poor baby. Maya should be there too, honestly. House parties weren't exactly her vibe. Too many people, too much noise, way too many chances to say something awkward and ruin her social life forever.

The bathroom door swung inward. Maya scrambled back as a guy stumbled in—then froze when he saw her.

"Oh. Sorry." He didn't leave though. He just leaned against the doorframe, grinning. He had messy dark hair and the kind of effortless confidence that made Maya simultaneously jealous and intrigued. "I'm Leo, by the way. Since we're both apparently hiding in here."

"Maya." She hugged her phone tighter. "I'm not hiding. Just... taking a break."

"From what?"

"Existential dread? Mostly?"

Leo laughed. It was a nice laugh. "Fair. That party out there is a lot." He studied her, eyes glinting like he knew something she didn't. "You seem like the type who overthinks everything."

Maya bristled. "Excuse me?"

"It's not an insult." He stepped closer, and her breath hitched. "You remind me of that cat meme—you know, the one judging everyone from the windowsill? Observing. Analyzing. Waiting."

"I do not—"

"What's the answer?" he cut in.

"To what?"

Leo's grin widened, sphinx-like and infuriating. "The riddle. What walks on four legs in the morning, two legs at noon—"

"That's the worst cliché ever," Maya said, but she was smiling now despite herself. "It's a human. Everyone knows that one."

"Okay, new riddle." Another flash of lightning illuminated the room, briefly turning his features silver-white. "What's scarier: being invisible, or being seen?"

The question caught her off guard. Maya looked away, throat tight. She'd spent sixteen years perfecting the art of blending in. Wearing the right brands. Laughing at the right jokes. Never saying the wrong thing.

"Seen," she whispered.

"Yeah." His voice softened. "Me too."

For a moment, neither of them spoke. The storm outside raged on, rain lashing against the window, but it felt miles away.

"You know," Leo said, "you could come back out with me. I won't let you be invisible."

Maya looked at him—really looked at him. And realized she was tired of hiding. Especially in bathrooms.

"Okay," she said. "But if this is some weird psychology experiment, I'm out."

Leo laughed again. "Deal."

As they walked into the hallway together, Maya's phone buzzed. A text from her sister: Pickles is fine. Storm's almost over.

Somehow, the storm inside her chest had calmed too.