Palm Sweat & Secret Screens
The ceiling fan spun lazily above Maya's bed, her iPhone clutched so tight her palms left sweat smears on the case. 2:47 AM. Again.
For three nights, she'd been "spying" on Kai's Instagram stories—watching without watching, those ghost eyes at the bottom of the screen telling her everything and nothing. He posted beach photos at sunset. Palm trees silhouetted against burning sky. Her heart did that stupid flutter thing.
"Just DM him," Zara had said at lunch, flicking a french fry at her. "What are you, twelve?"
Maya's palms had gone instantly sweaty at the thought. Texting Kai. The Kai who sat two rows behind her in AP Bio, whose voice dropped an octave when he was tired. The Kai who probably saw her as the girl who always forgot her calculator.
She stared at his latest story now: him holding some random coconut drink, captioned "tropical depression lol." He was at his cousin's place in Venice Beach. Three hours away.
Before she could overthink it, her thumbs were moving.
*"That looks suspiciously like a coconut. 0/10 would not recommend."*
Delete. Delete. DELETE.
*"Bet it's actually good tho"*
Send.
Her palms were literally dripping now. She threw her phone across the bed like it burned. What was wrong with her? This was pathetic. This was—
*ping*
Maya scrambled for the iPhone, nearly knocking it off the bed. A notification. From Kai.
*Kai_the_scientist replied: "only if u like coconut water mixed with 'why did i think this was a good idea'. stay safe out there ghost eyes 😜"*
Ghost eyes. He KNEW.
Maya pressed her face into her pillow and screamed. Her palms were sweating. Her heart was racing. And somewhere three hours away, Kai was probably laughing at her coconut joke.
Somehow, that was perfect.
*"rude. i see how it is. 🙄"*
*"u started it"*
*"fair. 😌"*
The ceiling fan kept spinning, but somehow the room felt different. Warmer. Less lonely. Maya wiped her sweaty palms on her sheets and smiled at the screen.
Tomorrow she'd deal with the panic. Tonight, she had messages to answer.