Signal Lost in the Woods

Maya's iphone clutched in her hand like a lifeline, three bars of service taunting her from the top bunk of cabin seven. Summer camp. Two months without WiFi, without her friends, without the carefully curated life she'd built on social media. The pyramid of bunk beds rose around her, each level occupied by girls who'd already formed alliances while she was still unpacking.

"You coming to the campfire?" asked Riley from the bunk below, dangling her head upside down like it was the most natural thing in the world.

Maya hesitated. Her phone buzzed—Jake from English class finally replied to her three-day-old DM. But camp rules were strict: no devices after sunset. Her thumb hovered over the screen.

"Bears, you know," Riley continued, like this was common knowledge. "They're attracted to the glow. Last summer, one nearly dragged a girl right out of cabin three because she wouldn't put her phone away."

Maya's thumb froze. "Bears? Like, actual bears?"

Riley flipped right-side up, grinning. "Black bears. They're harmless unless you're texting. Something about the blue light, makes them think you're a giant firefly."

The next morning, Maya discovered Riley had lied about the bears. They existed, sure—camp was in bear country—but the firefly thing was total BS. By then, it didn't matter. Maya had spent the evening by the campfire, learning constellations instead of refreshing her feed, laughing until her sides hurt instead of waiting for notifications.

On the last day of camp, Maya turned her phone back on. Seventy-three notifications, three dozen DMs, and Jake's reply asking if she wanted to see a movie when she got back. She stared at the screen for a long moment.

Then she opened the photos app. Pictures of bunk beds, campfire-lit faces, a terrible group selfie where everyone was making ugly faces. She'd climbed to the top of the social pyramid without posting a single story.

Maya typed back: "Can't wait. Also, you should hear about the bears."