Notifications from Nowhere

Maya's iphone buzzed in her palm for the third time in two minutes. She gripped it tighter, knuckles white, while her other hand self-consciously smoothed her frizzy hair. This party was supposed to be her big moment - first high school house party, finally part of the cool crowd - instead, she stood against the kitchen counter like a ghost haunting her own life.

Around her, people laughed and danced. Maya felt like a zombie, mindlessly scrolling through Instagram while actual human interaction happened everywhere she looked. Her hair, which she'd spent forty-five minutes perfecting that afternoon, now hung limp in the humidity.

"Maya! You actually came!" Jordan appeared, grinning. Maya's palms went instantly sweaty. This was it - her chance to finally talk to him after months of watching his stories.

"I was just about to leave," she said, then cursed herself. Why was she like this?

Jordan's smile faltered. "Oh. Well, I'm glad you're here."

He reached out - and her iphone slipped from her palm, clattering to the floor.

They both bent down. Their hands brushed. And in that ridiculous moment, both reaching for her stupid phone, Maya noticed something in Jordan's eyes - the same nervous energy she felt, the same careful hair that was clearly gelled into submission.

"Your phone," he said, handing it back. Their fingers lingered.

"Thanks." Maya's heart hammered. "My hair is totally frizzing, isn't it?"

"A little," Jordan admitted. "It looks good though."

They stood there for a moment, the distant music pulsing, and Maya realized something: everyone was faking it. All those instagram-perfect lives, all the confidence she thought she lacked - it was all performance.

Her palm buzzed again with another notification. Maya looked at Jordan, then at the lit screen, then back at Jordan.

She turned off her phone. "Do you want to get some air?"

Jordan's grin returned. "Absolutely."

As they walked toward the back door, Maya felt her phone go heavy in her pocket like a stone, felt her hair frizzing in the night breeze, felt her palm still tingling where Jordan's hand had brushed hers. She wasn't a zombie anymore. She was finally, actually, present.