The Fox in the Cable Aisle

I was stuck organizing the HDMI **cable** section for the third time that week. Tech Depot wasn't exactly where sixteen-year-old Marcus envisioned himself spending his Saturday, but money for concert tickets doesn't grow on trees.

Then I saw her.

**Fox**, as I'd mentally dubbed her weeks ago, had appeared near the gaming displays again. Wild red hair, sharp features, eyes that seemed to notice everything. She was definitely too cool to be shopping here with her grandma, who was currently squinting at printer cartridges.

I felt like a total **spy** watching her from behind the cable display. Pathetic, really. But I couldn't help it—she was fascinating in a way that made my chest feel weird. Like that time I chugged an entire energy drink before freshman PE.

"Hey," a voice said right beside me.

I practically jumped out of my skin. Fox was standing there, holding a tangled mess of charger cords. "These are all so confusing. My grandma needs a new phone charger, but I have no idea which one."

"Uh, yeah, they're super annoying," I managed. Smooth, Marcus. Really smooth.

Outside, **lightning** flashed across the sky, followed immediately by thunder that shook the store's windows. The power flickered.

"Perfect," she laughed, and something about her laugh made me feel brave all of a sudden. "I'm Luna, by the way. Fox hair, wolf name—my mom's into nature."

"Marcus," I said, actually meeting her eyes for the first time. "I can, um, help you find the right charger. If you want."

She grinned. "I'd love that."

As we walked toward the mobile accessories, I realized something that hit me harder than any energy drink ever could: sometimes the most terrifying moments—like talking to your crush or stepping out of your comfort zone—are exactly the **vitamin** your soul's been missing. And maybe, just maybe, Tech Depot wasn't so bad after all.