Summer Static

The pool party at Maya's house was supposed to be lowkey, but everyone who mattered was there. I stood by the deep end, nursing a lukewarm soda like it was the most interesting thing in the world. My palms were sweaty—like, actually nasty—and I kept wiping them on my shorts without trying to look obvious.

Across the pool, Jake was doing that thing where he laughs too loud at everything. Classic Jake behavior. My best friend Priya had already ditched me twenty minutes ago to play 'never have I ever' with the seniors. Rookie mistake, honestly.

Then the sky opened up.

Not rain—lightning. Purple-white forks crackling across the sky like something out of a movie. Everyone screamed and scrambled toward the house. But Jake didn't move. He stood there in the middle of the deck, staring up like he was waiting for something.

I don't know what made me walk over to him. Maybe I was tired of being the girl in the background. Maybe the static in the air was messing with my brain.

'You're gonna get struck,' I said, suddenly standing beside him.

He jumped. 'What? No, that's statistically unlikely.'

'Tell that to your hair.' It was standing up slightly. No joke.

He laughed, but it was different than the performative stuff from earlier. Real.

Then the palm trees started swaying crazy hard, and someone yelled to get inside already. But neither of us moved.

'My mom reads palms,' he said suddenly. 'She says the left hand is what you're born with, right is what you make of it.'

'Okay, fortune teller.'

'No, seriously.' He held out his right hand. 'Look.'

I looked. Long fingers, a tiny scar across one knuckle.

'Your turn,' he said.

I hesitated. Then I held out my left palm. He traced the lines with his thumb, barely touching, and something electric shot through me that had nothing to do with the storm.

'You're gonna be okay,' he said.

'You don't even know me.'

'I know that much.'

The first raindrop hit his nose. Then another. Then the sky just let go.

We ran for the house together, not holding hands but not not holding hands, and I realized something: sometimes the storms you're scared of are the ones that change everything. Sometimes you just have to stand in the rain and wait for the lightning to hit.

'Next time,' Jake said as we reached the porch, 'I'm teaching you to swim properly.'

'I know how to swim!'

'Not in the deep end, you don't.'

He grinned, and I laughed, and my palm still tingled where he'd touched it, and summer was just beginning.