Neon Lightning in the Suburbs

Maya gripped the orange solo cup like her life depended on it, which honestly, it felt like it might. Her first real party. Her first time wearing actual makeup. Her first time actively dying inside in someone else's basement.

"You good?" Marcus appeared beside her, holding a suspiciously blue drink. He was the kind of cute that made your brain short-circuit — all messy dark hair and that lazy smile that probably got him out of detention at least twice a week.

"So good," Maya lied. "Living my best life."

Outside, lightning cracked across the sky like the universe was trying to photobomb someone's Instagram story. A collective "whoa" rippled through the party. Maya pressed closer to the wall, accidentally unplugging someone's phone cable in the process. The owner, some girl with expertly applied eyeliner, shot her a look that said I will end you.

"Sorry," Maya whispered. Smooth. Truly peak performance.

"Wanna get out of here?" Marcus asked. "There's this spot by the creek behind the development. My cousin says there's like, actual foxes back there."

Maya's heart did this embarrassing little skip thing. "Foxes? At 11 PM on a Saturday? Sure, why not."

They slipped out the sliding glass door into the humid night air. The storm had cooled everything down, water dripping from the roof in steady rhythmic drops. The subdivision sprawled around them, all identical houses and identical lawns and identical lives, but under the streetlights it felt almost magical. Almost.

They reached the creek where the water rushed over smooth stones, and there — actually real, actually wild — a fox trotted along the opposite bank. Its fur caught the light from someone's porch, glowing like something Maya didn't know existed outside of Tumblr aesthetic boards.

"No way," she breathed.

"Told you," Marcus said softly. The fox paused, looked right at them with these weirdly intelligent eyes, then disappeared into the darkness like a secret.

Maya realized she'd been holding her breath. "That was... actually pretty cool."

"Yeah," Marcus said, and suddenly he was looking at her instead of where the fox had been. "Yeah, it was."

The distant bass from the party thumped like a second heartbeat. Maya's orange cup was empty. Her makeup was probably smudged. She'd unplugged some stranger's phone and almost died of embarrassment. But right now, with water rushing somewhere nearby and lightning flickering on the horizon and this cute boy standing way too close, she thought: maybe this was exactly what being sixteen was supposed to feel like.

"Happy I came," she said, and she meant it.