Static Electricity

Maya's hair was doing that thing it always did when she was nervous — standing on end like she'd stuck a fork in an electrical socket. Great. Just what she needed at Alex Chen's party.

She'd spent forty-five minutes flat-ironing it that afternoon, but now she looked like a science experiment gone wrong. The humidity wasn't helping.

"You look fine," said Jules, her best friend since sixth grade, practically reading her mind. They were squeezed onto the basement couch between a couple arguing about who lost their phones and a freshman trying desperately to look cool.

"I look like I got struck by lightning," Maya muttered, smoothing down frizzy strands that sprang back up instantly.

The truth was, she wasn't just nervous about her hair. She was nervous about HIM. Ryder was across the room, leaning against the wall near the makeshift dance floor like he owned the place. He kept glancing her way, or at least she thought he was. It was hard to tell through the fog machine someone had obviously overdone.

Maya's palms were so sweaty she could practically water plants with them. This was exactly why she didn't do parties. Or boys. Or basically anything that required existing in public.

"He's looking at you again," Jules said, nudging her. "Go talk to him."

"I can't. My hair —"

"Your hair is fine. You're overthinking it. Remember when you won that goldfish at the carnival last summer? You spent weeks obsessing over whether you were feeding it right, and then it lived for like, six months anyway."

"That fish died because my sister forgot to feed it when I was at camp. Not exactly a victory story, Jules."

"My point is, you overthink everything. Just go over there."

Before Maya could protest, Jules practically shoved her off the couch. She stumbled, then kept walking because stopping now would be weird. Her palms were actually dripping sweat now. Gross.

She made it to the wall, and Ryder turned. He smiled. Actually smiled. At her.

"Hey," he said. "I like your hair. It's got personality."

Maya blinked. That's what people said when they couldn't think of anything nice to say, right?

"Thanks," she managed. "The humidity is… doing things."

He laughed, and wow, up close he had really nice eyes. "I'm Ryder."

"Maya. We have English together."

"Yeah, I know. I sit behind you. Your hair is always different colors. I like the blue streaks from last month."

Wait. He'd NOTICED?

Something clicked in her chest, sudden and bright, like lightning splitting the sky. He'd been paying attention. To her. The weird girl who couldn't keep her hair one color and sat in the back row reading during group work.

"I'm doing purple next week," she heard herself say, and her voice didn't even shake.

"Can't wait to see it."

And when he reached out and took her hand, palm to palm, hers didn't even feel sweaty anymore. Just electric.