Running in Circles

I became an expert social media **spy** by accident. sophomore year, when Maya stopped sitting with me at lunch. First I'd check her stories between classes, then during class, then basically all the time. Watching her live what felt like a way better life without me.

The notifications killed me. Maya at parties with people I didn't know. Maya inside jokes I wasn't part of anymore. Maya moving on while I was stuck running in place, my thumb hovering over her profile like a digital ghost haunting my own phone.

"You're literally doing it again," Jordan said, sliding into the cafeteria booth next to me. They tapped my phone screen. "Stalking isn't gonna fix anything."

"I'm not stalking," I muttered, even though I totally was. "I'm just... checking. Making sure she's okay."

"She's fine," Jordan said, pushing their tray toward me. "Eat something before you pass out in chem again."

I looked down at my plate. The cafeteria's idea of a "fresh salad" was mostly wilted lettuce and suspicious gray stuff that might've been **spinach** three days ago. I poked it with my fork, thinking about how last year Maya and I had made fun of this exact salad together, how we'd promised each other we'd bring lunch from home but never did because we were both too lazy.

Now I sat here running through memories like I could somehow replay them into happening differently.

"You okay?" Jordan asked softer this time.

"Yeah," I said. "Just... sometimes I think I'm still waiting for things to go back to how they were."

"Things don't go back," Jordan said. "They just go forward. Eventually." They checked their phone. "Also, track tryouts are next week if you want to actually put all that nervous energy somewhere."

I thought about it – me, **running**, literally moving forward instead of scrolling backward.

"Maybe," I said.

"Good," Jordan said. "Now finish your mystery spinach before the bell rings. And maybe delete Instagram from your phone for a few days?"

I stared at my untouched salad, then at my phone. Maya's profile was still open, her most recent post from two hours ago.

I closed the app. Put my phone face down on the table.

"Tomorrow," I said. "I'll delete it tomorrow."

Jordan didn't say I told you so. They just passed me the salt and started eating, and for the first time in months, I did too.