Orange Lightning

The solo cup of lukewarm **orange** soda felt ridiculous in my hand. Riley's basement party was exactly what I'd expected — too loud, too crowded, way too many people trying way too hard. I pressed against the wall near the aquarium, watching my crush Jordan laugh at something that wasn't funny.

A **goldfish** drifted past the glass, its stupid mouth opening and closing like it had something profound to say. That's me, I thought. Just swimming in circles, forgetting everything every three seconds, completely invisible while everyone else lived their best lives.

"You're Jordan's friend, right?"

I jumped. This girl with hair dyed the color of a **fox** — bright copper with darker roots — stood way too close. She smelled like vanilla and something expensive.

"I'm Chelsea," she said, like I should know. "You've been staring at Jordan for twenty minutes."

My face burned. "I have not."

"You absolutely have." She grinned, all teeth. "It's fine. Jordan's hot. Also straight. Also taken." She nudged my shoulder. "I saved you from embarrassment. You're welcome."

Outside, the sky cracked open. **Lightning** flashed through the basement windows, turning everyone's faces ghost-pale for a split second.

The music cut. Someone screamed. Power gone.

"Perfect," Chelsea whispered in the dark. "Now nobody can see us make terrible decisions."

Her hand found mine in the darkness. "So, Goldfish Girl. What's your actual name?"

"Maya."

"Well, Maya." Her voice dropped. "This party's lame anyway. Wanna bail?"

I looked toward where Jordan had been standing, then back at the aquarium where the goldfish kept swimming its endless circles. Something about Chelsea's fox-orange hair in the darkness, the way she'd noticed me without me having to perform anything.

"Yes," I said. "Absolutely."

We slipped out the back door into the storm, and I didn't look back once.