Screen Bright, World Dim

Maya clutched her iPhone like it was the only thing keeping her anchored to reality. The house party thumped around her—music she didn't recognize, people she didn't know, laughter that felt like it was mocking her from across the room. She'd been standing by the snack table for twenty minutes, doing that thing where you look busy on your phone so no one notices you're alone.

Her thumb scrolled past picture after picture of everyone else living their best life. Why was this so easy for everyone else? Why did other people just know how to exist?

She needed air.

The back porch was quieter, lit by those cheap string lights that tried too hard to make everything look aesthetic. That's when she saw the cat—a scrappy tabby with one ear that folded weird, crouched under a porch chair like it was plotting something.

"Hey," Maya whispered, crouching down. "You hiding too?"

The cat crept closer, then froze, staring at something behind her. Maya turned to see Jake—the guy from her English class who'd been absent all week—standing there with two red cups. He looked different than he did at school. Softer somehow.

"That's Barnaby," he said, nodding at the cat. "He lives here. He's basically the reason I come to these things."

Maya almost smiled. "You come for the cat?"

"Better than the alternative." Jake gestured toward the sliding door where someone had just knocked over a cup, sending water splashing across the patio. "Everyone in there is performing. You know? Like they're in a movie they're watching themselves in. At least Barnaby's real."

Maya looked at her phone, screen bright with notifications she wasn't reading. "Yeah."

"You can put it down, you know," Jake said. "The world won't end."

She hesitated, then locked her phone and slid it into her pocket. The tabby cat wound around her ankles, purring like a tiny motor.

"I'm Maya," she said.

"Jake." He sat on the porch steps, and somehow it felt natural to sit beside him. They didn't talk about anything important—teachers they hated, shows they watched, why Barnaby only liked people who sat still. But for the first time all night, Maya's chest felt loose instead of tight.

When her phone buzzed in her pocket, she ignored it.

The cat curled up between them, and they watched the water from the spilled cup drip down the patio furniture, making tiny constellations on the concrete. For once, Maya didn't feel like she was watching life happen from behind a screen.

She was actually in it.