Sweaty Palms and Screens

Maya's palms were sweating again. She wiped them on her running shorts — third time in two minutes. The 5K race started in ten minutes, and her brain wouldn't shut up.

Her iPhone buzzed in her pocket. Probably Taylor group-chatting about how Ethan had posted their beach hangout without cropping her out. Again. Some friend.

She pulled it out. Eight notifications. Her thumb hovered over the screen, then she shoved it back deep in her pocket. Coach Reyes's voice echoed in her head: "Running is the one place your phone can't follow."

Truth was, she loved that part. No likes, no FOMO, no feeling like everyone else's life was aesthetic and curated while hers was... whatever hers was. Just the rhythmic slap of her shoes on pavement, her breathing, the palm trees blurring past on her morning route.

"You nervous?" This kid from Crossroads Academy stood next to her, looking suspiciously calm. His expensive running outfit probably cost more than her entire wardrobe.

"Nah," Maya lied. "Just ready to get it over with."

"Me too. My dad's all 'running builds character' but I think he just wants me out of the house by 6 AM on weekends." He cracked a smile. "I'm Leo."

"Maya."

"Cool. Hey, you run that loop past the old palm tree by the middle school? I see you there sometimes."

Wait. He'd noticed her?

"Yeah," she said, feeling weirdly seen. "It's my thinking spot."

"Mine too," Leo said. "Except my thinking mostly consists of questioning every life choice that led to me voluntarily waking up at dawn."

Maya snorted. A genuine laugh.

"Hey," he said, looking at her pocket, where her phone was practically burning a hole through the fabric. "You gonna leave that thing on during the race?"

She hesitated, then pulled it out and powered it down. "Yeah. Okay."

"Good." Leo nodded at the starting line. "Because today we're running for us. Not for the content."

The gun went off. Maya didn't check her phone once. And somewhere around mile two, she realized her palms had stopped sweating.

She finished third. Leo got fifth. They were both gasping for air, bent over at the finish line, when her phone powered back on with its familiar buzz.

"Wanna grab boba?" Leo asked. "My treat. You know, as a reward for not making me look terrible by finishing dead last."

Maya looked at her iPhone, then at him. "Yeah. I'd like that."

Her phone could wait. Some things were better experienced in real time anyway.