Static Bloom

Maya's thumb hovered over her iPhone screen, the glow illuminating half her face in the darkness of Chloe's bathroom. Another notification pinged — someone had posted something. Someone always was.

Outside, lightning cracked the sky, making the mirror tremble. The party downstairs pulsed with bass that vibrated through the floorboards. Maya had been hiding in here for seven minutes exactly, according to her screen time.

"You okay in there?" The door clicked open. Jamie, Chloe's older brother, leaned against the frame. He held a bowl of something green.

Maya's face burned. She'd mentally rehearsed this moment — the cool, casual exit. Instead she blurted, "Just fixing my..." and gestured vaguely at her face.

"Spinach dip?" Jamie offered the bowl. "Mom made too much. Again."

The party downstairs roared with laughter. Someone had done something legendary, probably. Maya felt the familiar ache in her chest — the fear of missing out while simultaneously wanting to miss everything.

"I should go down there," she said, but didn't move.

Jamie shrugged. "Or you could stay up here. My room has better WiFi."

Something about his tone — not mocking, just honest — made her actually look at him. He wasn't looking at his phone. He wasn't performing for an invisible audience.

"Actually," Maya said, "I hate spinach."

"Me too," Jamie said. "I was just being polite. You want the real snacks?"

Another flash of lightning painted the window purple. For a second, Maya saw her reflection — phone in hand, caught between the glow of screens and the storm outside.

She pocketed the phone. The real snacks could wait. She'd take the awkward honesty first.