Screen Bright

Marcus's iphone buzzed against his thigh, the vibration somehow louder than the cafeteria chaos. Another notification. Probably Skylar posting stories from the party he wasn't invited to. Again.

"Bro, you gonna stare at it all day?" Tyler slid onto the bench across from him, already peeling an orange. Citrus scent cut through the smell of overcooked pizza and teenage stress. "It's just a phone, Marcus. Not your entire personality."

Easy for Tyler to say. Mr. Wrestling Captain with the hair that somehow looked perfect even after practice. Marcus had been taking geometry notes while Tyler was busy being accidentally perfect.

"Mrs. Chen assigned that presentation today," Marcus said, ignoring the iphone still lighting up with notifications. "Partners. She picked them."

"And?"

"And she put me with Jason."

Tyler stopped mid-peel. "No way. Actual Jason? Like, Jason 'bull' Evans? The dude who got suspended for fighting that kid from Oak Creek last year?"

"That's the one."

Marcus's stomach did that thing where it felt like someone was wringing it out like a wet towel. Jason sat in the back row, always wore that same black hoodie, shoulders permanently hunched like he was bracing for something. People said he had anger issues. People said a lot of things.

The iphone buzzed again. Skylar's story this time—everyone laughing at someone's joke, golden hour lighting making everything look soft and perfect. Marcus felt that familiar ache, sharp and sudden.

"Look," Tyler said, finally breaking the orange into segments. "Just do the project. Keep your head down. It's not like you have to be his best friend or whatever."

But when Marcus walked into the library after school, Jason was already there. Hunched over a notebook, handwriting aggressively messy, earbuds in. He looked up when Marcus approached, and for a second, Marcus saw something he hadn't expected—fear. Or maybe just tiredness.

"Hey," Jason said, pulling out an earbud. "You're Marcus, right? From Chen's class?"

"Yeah."

"Cool." Jason slid a notebook toward him. "I already started the outline. Thought we could do it on the 1929 stock market crash, since my grandpa was telling me about it and it's actually kinda wild—"

He kept talking, hands moving, suddenly animated. And Marcus stood there, iphone burning a hole in his pocket, and realized maybe everyone was just waiting for someone to actually see them.

"That sounds actually really good," Marcus said, sitting down.

Jason's shoulders dropped an inch. "Yeah?"

"Yeah. Let's do it."

Outside the library windows, the sun was setting, everything golden and real and unfiltered. The iphone stayed in his pocket.

Some stories are better live anyway.