Strike First, Think Later

The sky turned that gross yellow-green color right before seventh period, but Coach Miller made us run anyway. 'Lightning isn't close yet,' he'd said, checking his phone like that somehow made him a meteorologist instead of a gym teacher who still said 'physical education' unironically.

I was already dying—cross-country was maybe not my brightest idea, especially when I'd only joined because Maya was doing it, and Maya had only joined because her older brother did it, and honestly I was three layers of deep in someone else's decisions. My shins felt like they were being stabbed with tiny invisible knives.

Then the sky ripped open.

First came the water—not normal rain, but that aggressive Florida storm water that hits you sideways and instantly soaks through everything. My favorite vintage band tee (that I'd thrifted specifically to look effortless and aesthetic) was plastered to my chest like tragic second skin. Great.

'Shit!' Maya yelled, already like fifty feet ahead because she was actually athletic and I was just out here vibing.

A flash of lightning cracked across the sky—close enough that the hair on my arms stood up. Everyone started booking it toward the school.

But here's the thing about running when your entire existence already feels like one long awkward moment: at some point, you stop caring. I was soaking wet, my shoes were squelching with every step, and Coach was still yelling something about 'controlled pace' like that was still relevant.

I caught up to Maya right as we reached the covered walkway. Her hair was plastered to her face, mascara running down her cheeks, and she was grinning like a maniac.

'That was WILD,' she said, shaking water off her arms like a wet dog. 'I haven't run that fast in my entire life.'

'Me either,' I admitted, trying to wring out my shirt without looking like a total loser. 'My shins are actually going to fall off. Like, medically speaking.'

Maya laughed—really laughed, head thrown back, not that fake polite laugh she gave everyone. 'Yo, you're actually unhinged for sticking with it. I respect it.'

Another lightning strike flashed, closer this time. The rumble of thunder shook the ground beneath our soaked sneakers.

'We should probably go inside before we literally die,' I said.

'Yeah,' she said, shoulder-bumping me as we headed for the doors. 'Hey, you wanna come over after school? My brother has that super expensive skincare stuff we can steal.'

I looked at my drowned-rat reflection in the glass door. 'Absolutely.'

Sometimes getting caught in a storm is exactly what you need.