Lightning in the Pocket

Maya's iPhone buzzed for the third time in two minutes. Another group chat blowing up about something that definitely wasn't that deep. She scrolled past notifications like they were dust on her screen, thumb moving on autopilot.

Outside, the sky had that weird greenish tint that meant something was about to go down. Lightning crackled across the horizon, and Maya practically ran to the bus stop, her phone clutched in her hand like it was the only thing keeping her tethered to reality.

"You know that thing's basically a vitamin D supplement at this point, right?"

Maya jumped. A girl with messy blue space buns and vintage high-tops was sitting on the bench, Maya's same bus stop, but somehow Maya had never noticed her.

"What?"

"Your phone. You're outside. Actual sunlight. But you're getting your rays through a screen." The girl grinned, and it was annoyingly charming. "I'm Jordan, by the way. I've seen you here every day since September."

Maya felt her face get hot. "Maya. And I'm not always on my phone."

"Uh-huh." Jordan's phone sat untouched on her bag, screen completely black. "What's so important anyway? Another emergency group chat about who's dating who?"

"How did you—"

"High school is small, Maya. Plus, I can see your reflection in your phone when it lightning-s." Another flash of lightning split the sky, closer this time. The air tasted like ozone and coming rain.

The bus was late. Of course. Maya's thumb hovered over her Instagram, but Jordan was watching her with this look that made Maya feel weirdly seen.

"You know," Jordan said, "my mom says real friendship is like a vitamin. Like, you actually need it to function properly, not just the fake stuff that makes you feel better for like five seconds."

"Is that supposed to be deep?" Maya asked, but she put her phone in her pocket.

"Nah. Just true." Jordan pulled a slightly squashed granola bar from her bag. "Want half? Best friends share food."

Maya hesitated, then took it. "We're not best friends. We just met."

"Yet." Jordan's smile was conspiratorial, like they were already in on something together. "So, what do you actually do? Like, when you're not doom-scrolling?"

The bus finally rounded the corner, spraying water as it hydroplaned through a puddle. Maya's iPhone buzzed again, but she didn't check it.

"I dance," she said. "Contemporary. And I write fanfiction that I will literally die before showing anyone."

Jordan's eyes lit up. "No way. What fandoms?"

And just like that—lightning striking twice in the same place—Maya texted her mom that she'd be late for dinner, because she was making actual plans with someone who wasn't just a profile picture in a group chat that never stopped buzzing.