Palm Sweat & Lightning Strikes

The gummy **vitamin** in my pocket felt like the world's most pathetic security blanket. Mom had shoved the whole bottle at me this morning, saying, "Take your daily dose of courage, Maya," and here I was, clutching one lone orange bear like it was a talisman against social suicide.

My **palms** were sweating so bad I could barely grip my phone. Outside, the first real party of sophomore year was happening at Chloe's house, and I wasn't even inside yet. My ex-best-friend group was in there, probably laughing about how I'd ghosted them all summer. Which was fair, because I had.

Then came the **lightning**—not the actual weather kind, though those clouds looked threatening. The real strike was Jordan stepping onto the porch, phone in hand, saying, "Maya? Are you coming in or what?"

She looked different. New hair, new confidence, and what was that—a nose piercing?

"I don't know," I said, my voice sounding small.

Jordan sat beside me on the porch steps. "Look, I know things got weird after what happened with your cousin. But we miss you. Even Taylor misses you, though she'll never admit it."

"I thought you guys hated me."

"We were hurt, Maya. There's a difference." She bumped my shoulder with hers. "You don't have to come inside. But I'd really like my **friend** back."

The first raindrop fell just as I popped the gummy vitamin in my mouth. Orange-flavored courage tasted pretty terrible, but Jordan was already standing up, holding out her hand.

"Okay," I said. "But if Taylor makes things weird, I'm bailing."

"Deal," Jordan grinned. "Also, warn you—Chloe's brother brought a guitar, and he thinks he can play."

Somehow, that was exactly what I needed to hear. Things could be awkward and messy and terrible, but they could also be okay. I took Jordan's hand and walked inside, letting the rain start to fall behind us.