Static and Storms

Maya's bedroom was dark except for the glow of her iPhone screen, where she'd been staring at Sarah's Instagram story for twenty minutes. The photo showed everyone from the squad at Jake's house, looking perfect. Maya wasn't invited.

She stood before her mirror, running hands through her hair. It was supposed to be cute—soft waves cascading like she didn't care—but now it just looked like she actually didn't care. Which she didn't. Okay, she did.

"You going?" her mom called from downstairs.

"No," Maya said, then hit FaceTime. Luna answered on the first ring, her face filling the screen.

"You missed it," Luna said. "Jake tried to do a beer pyramid and knocked over his mom's vase. Everyone was so awkward."

Maya snorted. "Missed nothing then."

"But like... you should've been there." Luna hesitated. "People were asking."

"Right." Maya flopped onto her bed. "The social pyramid needs all its layers."

"Maya, don't be like that. You know you're—"

Outside, lightning cracked across the sky, purple and violent. The power flickered and died, plunging Maya into darkness.

"Great," she muttered. "Even the universe is roasting me."

But then her phone lit up with a new notification—not Instagram, not Snapchat. A text from Jake: hey can you come over? sarah's being weird and you always know what to say

Maya stared at the screen. The social pyramid wasn't a pyramid at all. It was a lightning strike—unpredictable, illuminating, and when you least expected it, it showed you exactly where you stood.

She grabbed her hoodie, finger-combed her hair, and headed out into the storm.