Static Summer

Chloe's mom called them her vitamins, but the little orange pills were actually anti-anxiety meds. Not that Chloe took them. She flushed them, because real coping mechanisms were for people who didn't have curfolds to maintain.

The pool party at Jessica's house was exactly the kind of social minefield Chloe usually navigated with flawless precision. She'd spent forty-five minutes on her hair, twenty on her makeup, and approximately zero seconds deciding not to swim. Pool water was chlorinated chaos, and she had no intention of emerging with raccoon eyes and frizz halo.

"Chlo!

" Sam materialized, dropping onto the lounge chair beside her. "You gonna sit here all night like you're guarding the perimeter?"

"I'm contemplating existence," Chloe said, which was teenage code for "I'm avoiding my ex, who's currently doing cannonballs three lanes over."

Sam, who'd been her friend since third grade and knew exactly what that meant, passed her a lukewarm soda. "Wesley's being extra tonight."

"He's bringing his literal bear of a friend again? The one who looks like he graduated three years ago but keeps showing up at house parties like he's got nowhere else to be?"

"That's the one," Sam confirmed. "Anyway, Taylor's been asking where you are."

Chloe's stomach did that thing where it tried to exit through her throat. Taylor, who'd sat with her at lunch every day for two weeks and then stopped texting back. Taylor, who'd posted a photo with Wesley's crew yesterday, looking like she'd never heard of Chloe's existence.

"Tell her I'm busy contemplating existence," Chloe said, gripping the soda can like her life depended on it.

The first crack of lightning hit somewhere close enough that the pool surface shuddered. People screamed. Someone yelled about bringing the snacks inside.

"Real subtle," Sam muttered, grabbing Chloe's arm. "Come on, before we get trapped in the stampede."

They ended up squeezed onto the covered porch with twelve other people, watching the storm light up the backyard in strobe flashes. And there was Taylor, three people away, looking like she'd rather be literally anywhere else.

The lightning struck again, closer this time. The whole group flinched.

"I hate storms," Taylor said quietly, like she was confessing to murder.

Chloe met her eyes across the crowded porch.

"Me too," she said.

Something passed between them, unspoken but understood. Maybe Taylor hadn't stopped texting because she wanted to. Maybe the photo with Wesley's crew was exactly what it looked like: trying too hard to fit in, and failing.

Maybe they were both just trying to survive junior year without losing themselves completely.

"You have a charger?" Taylor asked. "My phone's about to die and my mom will literally kill me if she can't reach me."

Chloe fished it from her pocket and passed it over. Their fingers brushed, and for a second, the static electricity of the storm felt like something else entirely.

"Thanks," Taylor said, and something about the way she said it made Chloe think maybe, just maybe, she'd be texting back after all.

The vitamins in Chloe's pocket stayed there, untouched.

She didn't need them. Not tonight.