The Cat Saw Everything

Maya's fingers hovered over her iPhone screen, the perfect caption escaping her. #PoolPartyGoals seemed basic, but #LivingMyBestLife felt fake. The water shimmered behind her, blue and perfect, while her insides felt like a tangled mess of anxiety she couldn't post about.

"You coming in or what?" Jake called from the pool. His smile was the kind that made Instagram filters unnecessary.

"Yeah, just," Maya started, but then her cat Barnaby — who'd somehow sneaked into her friend's backyard — decided her iPhone looked like a pillow. POUNCE. The phone flew.

Water. Everywhere. Her iPhone did a perfect splash, landing right in the deep end.

Maya froze. Her entire life — photos, DMs, the aesthetic she'd curated since seventh grade — gone in three seconds of physics.

"Bro," Jake said, already diving in. He surfaced seconds later, dripping wet, holding her dead phone like a prize. "Got it. But uh, rest in peace."

Tears pricked her eyes. She couldn't tell if it was the phone or the release of pressure she hadn't realized she was carrying.

Then she saw it — her phone's lock screen, still somehow visible through the water damage. A notification from anonymous account: "stop trying so hard. we can all tell."

Someone had been watching. Not a friend. A spy in her followers.

"You okay?" Jake asked, actually looking at her. Not her phone. Not her feed. Her.

Maya nodded, then shook her head. "Actually? No. But I think I will be."

Barnaby chose that moment to knock over a stack of cups. Chaos. Perfect, uncurated chaos.

"Your cat is a legend," Jake laughed.

"He really is," Maya said. And for the first time all summer, she didn't reach for her phone to capture it. She just let it be.