Static and Spinach Dip

Maya's palms were sweating. Literally sweating. She wiped them on her jeans for the third time, leaving dark streaks on the denim.

"You good?" Marcus asked, not looking up from his iPhone. His thumb scrolled like a machine.

"Fine. Just... fine."

They were at Tyler's house party—the party of the year, apparently—and Maya had spent the last hour nursing a cup of lukewarm punch while pretending to check messages. The real problem wasn't the party itself. It was the spinach dip.

Specifically, the spinach dip currently wedged between her front teeth, which she'd discovered thirty minutes ago in Tyler's bathroom mirror. The emergency dental floss in her pocket had somehow fallen out somewhere between the snack table and here.

Marcus finally looked up. "You look weird."

Thanks, bro.

Outside, lightning flickered across the sky, illuminating the basement windows in strobe flashes. Someone squealed. Thunder rattled the floorboards.

"Storm's getting close," Tyler announced, materializing with a girl draped over his arm. "Who wants to play—"

The lights died.

Total darkness. Then someone's phone flashlight cut through. Then another. In the sudden chaos, Maya felt something press into her hand.

"Here," Marcus whispered.

Dental floss. The mini travel pack from her bag.

"When did you—"

"I saw you checking your teeth earlier. Like, a lot."

Maya wanted to die. Actually die.

"Thanks," she mumbled, fumbling in the semi-darkness.

"Also," he added, "you have spinach in your teeth."

"I KNOW."

But when she finally emerged from the bathroom, spinach-free and vaguely dignified, Marcus was waiting. And he wasn't looking at his phone.

"Better?" he grinned.

"Shut up."

"Wanna get food? There's this place..."

The storm raged outside, but inside, something else sparked. Maya wiped her palms on her jeans one last time.

"Yeah. I'd like that."