Screen Time Reality Check

Maya's Instagram feed was a perfectly curated lie. Filters masked the acne she'd obsessed over since seventh grade. Her captions hinted at a social life that didn't exist beyond her bedroom walls. The goldfish bowl on her desk—containing exactly one fish she'd named Galaxy—had more genuine interactions than she did most days.

"You're overthinking it again," said Jace, sprawled across her bed, somehow making his varsity jacket look casual instead of calculated.

Jace was her oldest friend, the one person who knew her real laugh sounded like a dying cat. The one she couldn't fool, not that she didn't try.

"Homecoming's in two weeks," Maya said, scrolling through her iPhone. "Everyone's posting about dates and proposals and—"

"And half of it's cap." Jace sat up. "Remember when Sarah claimed she was dating that college sophomore? Turned out she was catfishing herself with someone else's pics."

Maya snorted. "Classic Sarah."

"Look." Jace gently took her phone. "You're so busy performing for an audience that doesn't matter, you're missing what's actually real. Like last week at your grandma's farm—your aunt's pet fox kept stealing everyone's shoes, and you were too busy finding the perfect lighting for a sunset selfie to even notice it was literally wearing your favorite Docs."

Maya flushed. It was true. She'd posted the sunset with a caption about #blessed moments while secretly freaking out that her followers would notice she'd worn the same outfit three days in a row.

"What if I just... don't?" Maya whispered. "What if I show up to homecoming stag, take exactly zero photos, and actually talk to people?"

"Then you might have fun," Jace said, like it was that simple. "Scary, I know."

Her phone buzzed with another notification. Galaxy swam to the front of his bowl, staring at her with those weirdly judgmental fish eyes.

Maya turned off her screen.

"Okay," she said. "But you're coming with me."

"Obviously." Jace grinned. "Someone's gotta make sure you don't relapse."

Outside, real life was happening—messy and unfiltered and waiting.