Palm Lines & Lightning Bugs

Maya's palms were sweating so bad she could practically water plants with them. Standing outside Tyler's house, clutching a bottle of her mom's vitamin D supplements because taking them was "literally her entire personality" now, she questioned everything.

"You good?" Sasha asked, checking her reflection in her phone mirror. "You look like you're about to throw up or propose marriage."

"I forgot what nerves feel like," Maya admitted. "It's been, like, two months since I've been at an actual party. My social battery died in 2020."

Sasha rolled her eyes. "Bestie, your rizz levels are critical right now. Just don't be weird."

Inside, the air was thick with cheap cologne and the bass of some song that everyone pretended to know. Maya spotted Tyler immediately—across the room, laughing with his friends, looking completely unaware that she was about to have a complete meltdown.

She made it three steps before her clumsy foot caught on something. She went down hard, the vitamin bottle clattering across the floor like a dramatic attention-seeker.

The room went dead silent. Tyler looked over. Maya wanted to evaporate.

But then he was there, reaching down, his palm warm against hers as he pulled her up. "You okay? That was... iconic."

"I meant to do that," she lied. "New trend."

He laughed, and something sparked between them—electric and sudden, like lightning captured in a jar. For a heartbeat, the awkwardness, the sweaty palms, the embarrassment—none of it mattered.

"So," Tyler said, still holding her hand. "You always bring vitamins to parties, or is that a special occasion thing?"

Maya found herself grinning. "Only when I'm trying to be iconic."

"Well," he said, "mission accomplished."

Later that night, Maya would message Sasha: "I think lightning just struck, and I think I'm okay with getting burned." But in that moment, as Tyler's thumb traced imaginary lines across her palm, she just knew—some things were worth the nerves. Some things were worth the fall.