Storm Season

Maya stood outside Tyler's house, heart hammering like a trapped bird. First real party. No parents. Just juniors and seniors and the terrifying possibility of saying something weird. The bass thudded through the door, making her chest vibrate. She'd spent two hours on her makeup, accidentally deleted three outfit check mirror selfies, and still felt like she was wearing a costume.

Inside, the air smelled like cheap body spray and something tropical. The kitchen counter was covered in Solo cups. Tyler— Tyler with the perfect hair and the lacrosse jersey and the smile that made her forget her own name—was by the fridge, laughing with his friends. Maya grabbed a cup, filled it with whatever was in the giant bowl, and immediately regretted everything. The red liquid tasted like nuclear waste mixed with childhood trauma.

"Hey, you made it!" Tyler appeared beside her, and her brain short-circuited. "What's up?"

"Nothing," she said, way too fast. "Just. Chilling."

Chilling. Who said chilling anymore? She wanted to dissolve into the linoleum.

His golden retriever, Buster, nudged her hand with a wet nose. At least the dog liked her. "Buster, bro, give her some space," Tyler laughed, scratching behind the dog's ears. "He's such a stage hog."

Outside on the back porch, a group was playing some game Maya didn't recognize. Something with cards and shouting. "Bro, that's such bull!" someone yelled, and the whole group erupted in groans and laughter. Maya watched from the doorway, not quite brave enough to join, not quite cowardly enough to leave.

Then lightning flashed—a single stark white line that split the sky open. The power died. Complete darkness, except for everyone's phones lighting up like they were at a concert. For a second, nobody moved. Then someone started counting. "One, two, three..."

"Thunder!" The boom shook the house.

"No way," Tyler said, suddenly beside her in the darkness. His voice was different. More real. "I love storms. Come on."

He led her out the front door, onto the porch in the rain. They sat on the swing, watching the sky light up again and again. He told her about failing his driver's test three times. She told him about secretly loving bad reality TV. The dog curled up at their feet, completely over the drama.

"You know," Tyler said, as the storm drifted toward the horizon, "I was scared you wouldn't come tonight."

"Me?" Maya laughed. "I was scared you'd remember I exist."

"Maya." He turned to her, water dripping from his hair. "I've been trying to talk to you since September."

The storm had passed, but something electric was still in the air. Maya smiled, really smiled, and for the first time all night, she wasn't pretending to be anyone else.