Lightning in a Snapback

Jordan's charging cable had died three hours into the party, leaving them at 4% and spiraling. The basement of Tyler's house smelled like punch that was definitely mostly fruit juice and something stronger, and Jordan was vibrating with that special kind of teenage panic where everything feels life-or-death even though it literally isn't.

They'd spent twenty minutes perfecting their hair in the mirror before grabbing their lucky snapback—the one with the slightly frayed brim that made them feel like they had *some* control over their appearance. Now Jordan leaned against the wall, nursing a lukewarm soda, watching Skylar laugh at something Tyler said. Skylar, who'd smiled at Jordan in third period like *maybe* they'd finally noticed Jordan existed after two years of shared classes.

"Yo, you good?" Marcus appeared beside them, holding a red solo cup like it was a weapon. "You look like you're about to throw up."

"My phone's about to die," Jordan admitted. "And Skylar's over there being all... Skylar-like, and I'm just standing here like—"

"A total stuttering mess?" Marcus grinned. "Just talk to them. Take the bull by the horns, my dude. Or whatever the expression is."

Before Jordan could overthink it into paralysis, Skylar wandered over, abandoning Tyler mid-story. Their eyes landed on Jordan's hat. "Nice snapback. I like how you wear it—it's got vibe."

Jordan's brain short-circuited. *It's got vibe.* What did that even mean? Was that good? "Thanks?" they managed, their voice cracking embarrassingly.

Then it happened—Tyler's enormous goldendoodle, Cheese, came tearing through the basement like a caffeinated tornado, jumping on furniture and knocking over drinks. Cheese bounded toward Skylar, who stumbled backward, directly into Jordan. Their fingers brushed, electricity sparking through the contact that had nothing to do with the actual lightning storm crackling outside.

Power flickered. Then died. The basement plunged into darkness, illuminated only by phone flashlights and the storm outside painting the windows in jagged brilliant streaks. Someone cheered. Someone else groaned about their cheese dip.

"Well," Skylar's voice came from close—too close, heart-stoppingly close. "Guess we're stuck in the dark together."

Jordan forgot about their dead phone. Forgot about their panic. Cheese pressed against their leg, panting happily, and for once, Jordan didn't overanalyze the perfect comeback. They just breathed, feeling lightning-fast and terrifyingly alive.

"Yeah," Jordan said into the dark. "Guess we are."