Static at Seventeen

Maya's palms were sweating. Again. She wiped them on her jeans — third time in two minutes. The bass from Tyler's sound system vibrated through the floorboards of his basement, cheap LED lights painting everyone in shifting neon.

Her best friend shot her a look. "You good? You've been clutching that red solo cup like it's a lifeline."

"I'm chill," Maya lied, because that's what you say when your heart's doing cartwheels.

Alex was across the room. Of course Alex was across the room, looking unfairly good in that oversized flannel she'd probably thrifted. Alex who sat behind her in pre-calc, who drew cat cartoons in the margins of her notes, who'd smiled at Maya in the hallway last Tuesday and completely dismantled her ability to function.

Maya took a breath. Just talk to her. Be normal. Don't be weird.

She made her move through the crowd, dodging a game of beer pong and someone's intense conversation about whether they'd rather fight one horse-sized duck or a hundred duck-sized horses.

Alex was standing near the basement stairs, arms crossed, expression unreadable as some dude in a basketball jersey mansplained something with way too much confidence.

Then lightning flashed through the small basement windows — purple-white electricity that briefly illuminated everything. The storm they'd been predicting all week had finally arrived. A massive crash of thunder rattled the house, shaking the foundation.

And Alex's eyes met hers across the room.

Time did that cliché thing where it slowed down. Maya's heart hammered so hard she could feel it in her throat.

"You good?" Alex was suddenly in front of her, concern written across her face. "You look like you saw a ghost."

"I — uh. Yeah. Just thunder."

They ended up on the front porch, rain drumming on the roof overhang. The air smelled like ozone and wet pavement. Maya's hands were still shaking slightly.

"So," Alex said, leaning against the railing. "You always this quiet at parties, or am I special?"

Maya laughed despite herself. "Definitely the second one. You're very special."

Alex's grin was genuine. "Good to know."

Then her phone buzzed. Her mom. *Where are u? Coming to get u.*

"Everything okay?" Alex asked.

"Yeah, my mom's being... you know." She typed back *five minutes*. "She worries. Ever since my brother had to go to the ER last year, she's convinced something terrible's gonna happen if I'm out past eleven."

"I feel that. My mom's the same way after I broke my arm falling out of that tree." Alex shook her head. "It's like they forget we're literally almost adults."

"Exactly," Maya said. "How are we supposed to have everything figured out by eighteen when nobody actually teaches us how?"

"Right?" Alex's palm rested on the railing next to Maya's, close enough that their pinky fingers brushed. Maya's breath caught. "Like, how are you supposed to know who you like when you've barely met anyone?"

"Is that... are you asking me something?" Maya's voice came out quieter than she intended.

Alex's cheeks flushed. "I might be. Hypothetically."

A stray cat darted across the front lawn — gray and quick, vanishing under the porch. They both watched it go, the tension stretching between them like a rubber band pulled tight.

"I like girls," Alex said quietly. "I think. Mostly. Sometimes I don't know what I think, but then I meet people and it's just — different."

"I like that you draw cats in pre-calc," Maya said, and immediately wanted to die from how lame that sounded.

But Alex just smiled. "You noticed that?"

"I notice everything about you." The words escaped before Maya could stop them. Her face burned. "I mean — not in a creepy way. Just. You know what I mean."

"I do know." Alex's hand found hers, fingers intertwining naturally, like this was something they'd done a hundred times before. "I notice you too, Maya."

The rain slowed to a drizzle. Maya's mom's headlights swept across the front lawn.

"That's my ride."

"I should get your number." Alex pulled out her phone, casual but hopeful. "If you want."

"Yes. Absolutely. Very much want."

As Maya walked toward her mom's car, she turned back once. Alex was still on the porch, watching her go, and raised a hand in a small wave.

Maya got in the car, heart pounding, palms still damp, grinning like an idiot.

Her mom glanced over. "Good party?"

"Yeah." Maya leaned her head against the window, watching Alex's house recede into the distance. "Actually, it kind of was."

Lightning flashed again in the distance, a soft pulse on the horizon. Somewhere under that porch, a cat was probably sleeping. And Maya was possibly the happiest she'd ever been.

Static electricity had nothing on this.