Storm Chaser's Confession

Maya pressed her back against the cedar fence, heart doing that weird fluttery thing it always did when she was anywhere near Leo. Which was ridiculous, honestly — they'd been in the same homeroom since seventh grade, and she was still out here hiding behind a shed instead of, like, actually talking to him like a normal human being.

From her spot, she could see through the sliding glass doors. Everyone was inside, laughing at something Leo said. Maya felt like total loser material, lurking on the periphery. This wasn't even her house to begin with — Sarah's party, and Sarah had barely acknowledged her when Maya arrived twenty minutes ago with that awkward "hey, thanks for inviting me" while Sarah was already mid-conversation with someone else.

A calico cat wound around her ankles, purring like a tiny motor.

Maya bent to pet her. "At least you're not judging my life choices, right?"

The cat meowed emphatically, then trotted toward the neighbor's yard where a golden retriever barked at something — probably the ancient, cracked sphinx statue someone had positioned near their flower bed, its stone face eroded into something almost smile-like.

"You spying on the cool kids too?"

Maya jumped. Leo stood there, holding two sodas, looking unfairly good in that flannel she'd noticed him wearing earlier.

"No," she said way too fast. "I mean. Just getting some air."

"The air out here is definitely fresher than whatever Jordan's wearing inside." Leo cracked one soda open and handed her the other. "I saw you duck out. Figured you might want an escape route."

Her heart did the fluttery thing again. "You saw me?"

"I see you, Maya." He said it so casually, like it wasn't making her entire brain short-circuit. "You're always reading during lunch, and you drew that really sick mural on the history classroom wall last semester, and you rescued that kitten from behind the gym in October."

"You noticed all that?"

"I pay attention." He shrugged. "I'm not great at, like, talking to people though. Social battery drains in ten minutes flat."

"Same," Maya breathed. "I thought you were just being nice by inviting me."

"I wanted you here." Lightning flashed across the sky, illuminating his face for a split second. "I was working up to actually saying something, but then I chickened out and got us sodas instead."

Thunder rumbled overhead.

"Leo," she started, but the first fat raindrop landed on her nose. Then another on her shoulder.

The cat had already bolted for cover. The retriever was barking at the storm now. Maya and Leo stood there as the sky opened up, getting absolutely soaked, and she started laughing because what even was her life sometimes — hiding behind a shed, feeling like a total outsider, and here was Leo, telling her he wanted her here, in the middle of a thunderstorm like some rom-com extra she never thought she'd get to star in.

"I really like you," he said over the rain, like it was just that simple. "I have for a while. Which is probably awkward to say right now but also the storm feels like a sign?"

Maya wiped rain from her eyes, grinning so hard her face hurt. "The storm is definitely a sign. Terrible timing, maximum drama."

He laughed, and she decided right then that she was done being the person who watched from the edges.

"Let's go inside," she said. "Together."

"Together," he agreed, and they ran toward the house holding hands like the biggest clichés ever, and Maya didn't even care.

That was the thing about lightning — sometimes it struck when you least expected it, changing everything in a flash.