Screenshot Ghosts

Maya's thumbs hovered over her iPhone screen, heart doing that stupid flutter thing it always did when Jordan's profile loaded. Three days ago, Jordan had posted that vague "some people aren't who they seem" story. Maya had been spiraling ever since.

They'd been best friend since seventh grade, when Jordan had defended Maya against some eighth-grade jerks making fun of her thrifted sneakers. Now juniors, they did everything together—study sessions at Bean There, drunk That You's speeches, Friday night horror marathons at Jordan's house where they'd both pretend not to be scared.

But lately Jordan had been distant. Cancelled plans with weak excuses. One-word texts. And now this cryptic story, clearly about someone.

Maya clicked on Jordan's close friends list. Her stomach dropped—she wasn't on it anymore.

She wasn't proud of what happened next. But honestly, who wouldn't? Maya created a burner account—__ghost.palette__—using Jordan's aesthetic exactly. Moody filters. Music references. The whole deal. Then she requested to follow Jordan's private account, @j_ordans_eyes.

A fake account to spy on your best friend. Pathetic? Maybe. Desperate? Definitely.

Jordan accepted within an hour.

Maya scrolled through posts she'd never seen before. Jordan at some coffee shop Maya didn't recognize. Jordan with people Maya didn't know. Jordan looking… happy? With people who weren't her?

Then she saw it—a posted from yesterday: "finally told my parents. they're actually being cool about it??"

The comments:

@art_i_stole: dude that's huge

@j_ordans_eyes: @art_i_stole ik?? still can't believe it

@art_i_stole: what about maya?

@j_ordans_eyes: i don't think i can tell her yet. what if she doesn't get it? what if things get weird?

Maya's phone slipped from her hand, clattering onto her desk. Tell her what? Get what?

Her brain spiraled through possibilities. Was Jordan moving? Sick? Dating someone Maya knew and couldn't stand? The not-knowing felt like swallowing ice.

Her phone buzzed—Jordan calling. Maya hesitated, then answered.

"Hey, can you come over?" Jordan's voice sounded weird. Shaky. "I need to tell you something."

"Is everything okay?"

"Yeah. Just… I'm done hiding stuff from you. You're my best friend. You deserve to know."

Maya felt like garbage. Here Jordan was, about to share something huge, and Maya had been literally spying on her instead of just asking.

"Jordan," Maya said, her voice suddenly thick. "I did something. I made a fake account to follow your private page because I thought you were mad at me and I'm so sorry, I'm an actual terrible person, I'll delete it right now—"

Silence. Then a soft laugh.

"Wait, YOU'RE ghost.palette?"

"Oh my god, you KNEW?"

"Maya, nobody else uses that specific indie band reference in their bio. That's literally our thing." Jordan paused. "I was wondering when you'd crack."

"So you weren't posting cryptic stuff about me?"

"No, dummy. I was posting about my parents." Jordan took a breath. "I'm bi, Maya. I came out to them on Thursday. I've been weird because I've been processing it, and trying to figure out how to tell you, which is stupid because you're literally the most supportive person I know."

Maya's eyes burned. "Jordan. That's AMAZING. Your parents are cool with it?"

"They're surprisingly not terrible. My mom even ordered a pride flag for my room."

"I'm coming over," Maya said. "We're ordering celebratory pizza and you're telling me everything."

"Bring the good snacks?"

"Obviously."

After she hung up, Maya deleted the burner account. Then she texted Jordan: for the record, you're my favorite person. always.

Jordan replied almost instantly: i know <3

Sometimes the people we think are pushing us away are just fighting battles we can't see. And sometimes spying on your best friend makes you realize you never needed to—that some ghosts only exist in your head, and friendship is stronger than fear.