The Connection We Make

Jordan stared at the orange pill bottle on their desk. Another day, another vitamin D supplement from Mom, who kept leaving them like tiny judgmental offerings. "For your bones," she'd say, which they both knew meant "for your attitude" and "for the sunlight you haven't seen since March."

But sunlight required leaving the room, and leaving the room required facing the hallway where they'd definitely run into Maya, who had somehow become popular overnight while Jordan was busy leveling up in a game that nobody at school played anymore. That was the thing about sophomore year — some people got glow-ups, and some people got plus-ones.

The ethernet cable snaked across the floor like a lifeline, which was literally what it was. Jordan's entire social existence traveled through that six-foot cord. Discord servers, Twitch streams, Reddit threads — places where nobody knew they spent lunch period in the library, pretending to be deeply fascinated by AP Euro History.

"Knock knock." It was Maya, standing in the doorway holding a tangled mess of charger cables. "Hey, so this is embarrassing, but my phone died and I don't have my charging brick. Can I borrow yours? Like, for five minutes?"

Jordan's brain blue-screened. Maya. Popular Maya, who had somehow sat at the cool lunch table without seemingly trying. Here. In their room. Asking for a favor like it was normal.

"Uh, yeah," Jordan managed, fumbling for the cable. "It's probably — somewhere."

"Thanks! You're literally saving my life." Maya laughed, and Jordan noticed she was wearing that same oversized hoodie from freshman year, the one with the mysterious stain on the sleeve. It wasn't a designer brand. It wasn't even cute.

It was just.

Maya flopped onto the beanbag chair while her phone charged, pulling an orange from her pocket. "Want half? It's from the cafeteria, so like, probably mediocre at best."

Jordan took it. The orange segments were kind of sad and pale, but sitting there, eating mediocre cafeteria fruit with Maya while she complained about how fake everything had gotten, how she missed when they used to talk about video games in homeroom — Jordan realized something.

The vitamin D bottle caught the afternoon light through the window. The cable connected to Maya's phone, yes, but also to something else. The orange was sweet in a weird, unpolished way.

Maybe connection didn't require a perfect setup. Maybe it just required showing up, even when your social battery's at 3% and you haven't left your room in three days.

"So," Maya said, wiping orange juice from her chin. "There's this new game everyone's playing. Want to learn it?"

Jordan smiled. "Yeah. Actually, yeah."