Summer of Stray Chords

Maya's supposed best friend, Chloe, had been ghosting her all summer — too busy with the popular crowd who'd suddenly decided she was cool enough. Whatever. Maya didn't care. Definitely didn't care.

What she did care about was the mangy orange cat that appeared on her fire escape every evening, meowing like it had opinions about her life choices. She named him Vitamin because he was basically her daily supplement of not-terrible interactions.

"You're the only one who gets me," she told him, tossing pieces of turkey from her dinner. Her mom's spinach salad sat untouched on her plate. Again.

"Maya, you need actual vitamins," her mom sighed, pushing a gross green smoothie toward her. "Not imaginary ones from a stray."

Vitamin hissed at the smoothie. Valid.

That night, Maya found her older brother's old electric guitar in the closet, complete with a frayed cable she'd have to tape together. She'd been teaching herself through YouTube videos, fingers forming clumsy chords that sounded more like dying cats than music. But something about wailing into the summer darkness felt right.

She was messily playing through a breakup song she'd never experienced when Chloe texted: *u want to come to jake's party??*

Maya stared at her phone, then at Vitamin watching her through the window. At her cramped fingers on the fretboard. At the lame chord progression she'd finally nailed.

She typed out: *nah. busy.*

"Busy pretending to be a rockstar?" Vitamin's look seemed to say.

"Busy becoming someone who doesn't wait around for invitations," Maya corrected.

The cat purred like a distorted amp. Maya played louder, spinach smoothie forgotten on the counter, until her fingers actually hurt. For the first time all summer, she didn't feel lonely.

She felt loud.