Poolside Lightning

Maya adjusted her bikini top for the third time, feeling like everyone was watching. Which they probably were, because that's what happens at pool parties when you're fifteen and have never quite figured out how to exist in your own skin.

"You're doing it again," Chloe whispered from behind her sunglasses. "The spy thing."

"I am not spying." Maya crossed her arms, which only made her feel more exposed. "I'm observing. There's a difference."

"You're literally watching Jake from behind that potted plant like you're in the CIA. He's not gonna magically notice you if you mentally will it hard enough, Maya."

Maya sighed. Her best friend since kindergarten was ruthless sometimes, but she wasn't wrong. The problem was that Jake Nguyen was beautiful in that way that made regular people feel like they were being pranked by genetics, and Maya had spent the entire summer being *aware* of his existence in an extremely specific and embarrassing way.

The sky, which had been doing that ominous gray thing all afternoon, finally made good on its threats. A crack of **lightning** split the sky like something out of a movie – not the cool kind with superheroes, the stressful kind where everyone's phone blows up with emergency alerts.

"Everyone out of the **pool** NOW!" Jake's older brother yelled, actually dropping his phone on the concrete in his haste.

What happened next was exactly the kind of thing that becomes lore at Lincoln High for three years minimum. Because in the chaos of everyone scrambling toward the house, Maya somehow ended up pressed against the sliding glass door with Jake himself, both of them dripping wet and ridiculously close.

"Nice suit," he said, and she couldn't tell if he was being sarcastic or not, which was honestly worse.

"Thanks, I'm wearing it ironically," she heard herself say, and why did her brain choose NOW of all times to develop a personality.

But then Jake actually laughed, not the polite laugh he gave teachers when they made jokes, but a real one.

"You're funny. I never noticed that before."

The second wave of **lightning** flashed through the glass door, illuminating everything in harsh white – Jake's wet hair, his ridiculous eyelashes, the way he was actually looking at her like she was a person worth talking to.

"I guess you'd have to actually talk to me to notice stuff like that," she said, feeling weirdly brave.

"Yeah," he said, quiet, with this little smile that made her stomach do something concerning. "I guess I would."

Later, Chloe would demand every single detail and Maya would catch her **spy**ing on them from the kitchen window like the hypocrite she was. Later, Jake would follow her on Instagram and comment on her story with something that wasn't a fire emoji. Later, she would replay that moment in her head approximately seven thousand times.

But right then, with thunder shaking the house and her hair dripping onto her shoulders, Maya finally felt like she wasn't watching from the sidelines anymore.

And honestly? It was about time.