Summer Lightning in Your Palm

Maya's **hat** pulled low, she scrolled through her **iPhone**, watching everyone else's perfect summer unfold in shiny squares while she sat on her bedroom floor organizing **vitamin** supplements into neat little rows. B12 for energy. D for mood. Something her mom swore would "help with the anxiety," as if a pill could fix the way her **palm** sweated whenever someone even looked at her in the hallway.

"You coming to Jake's party?" asked Zara, leaning against Maya's doorframe, effortlessly cool in a way that made Maya's stomach knot.

"Probably." Maya tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. "Just gotta finish... stuff."

Zara raised an eyebrow but didn't push. "Your call. But it's literally the last party before senior year, Maya. Everyone's gonna be there."

Everyone. The word sat heavy in Maya's chest. Last year, she'd been the girl who sat alone at lunch, the girl who fumbled through conversations like she was speaking a language she'd never learned. This summer was supposed to be different. This summer, Maya 2.0 was going to be confident, spontaneous, the kind of person who didn't overthink every text message or practice conversations in the mirror.

The **lightning** struck somewhere beyond her window—August storms were weird like that, appearing from nowhere. Maya watched the flash illuminate her room, her neat vitamin rows, her phone still glowing with notifications she couldn't bring herself to answer.

What was she so afraid of?

Her palm didn't sweat when she was alone in her room, dreaming up versions of herself. It didn't shake when she was writing in her journal or singing along to her favorite songs with the windows down. The fear wasn't her. The fear was what she thought everyone else saw when they looked at her.

Maya grabbed her hat off the floor. Her fingers found Zara's number. Her palm was still damp, her heart still racing, but she pressed dial anyway.

"I'm coming," she said when Zara picked up. "And I'm bringing those weird vitamin gummies. You know, just in case."

Zara laughed. "Only if you share."

Maya stood up, hat on straight, phone in hand, terrified and electric and maybe, finally, ready. Some transformations don't come in pills. Some come in lightning moments when you realize that everyone else is just pretending they know what they're doing too.