The Fox in the Storm

The party was already dead when Maya grabbed her beanie and bailed. Being the new kid sucked, but being the new kid who showed up to a house party that got busted by cops within twenty minutes? That was a new level of awkward. She pulled her wool hat down over her ears, bracing against the November wind, and started the long walk home.

Then she saw him — Fox. Not the actual animal, but Marcus Fox, the quiet junior from her AP Bio class who always sat in the back and never spoke. He was sitting on the curb in the rain, completely soaked, hoodie useless against the downpour.

"You gonna die of pneumonia or just looking dramatic?" Maya called, surprising herself. Since when did she talk to strangers?

He looked up, hair plastered to his forehead, and actually smiled. "Waiting for my ride. My phone died."

"Classic." Maya hesitated, then sat on the curb next to him, leaving a respectful distance. "I'm Maya."

"I know. You're the girl who corrected Mr. Harrison about mitochondria yesterday."

"Oh god, don't remind me." She groaned. "I'm that girl now, aren't I?"

"Nah." Fox bumped her shoulder with his. "You're the girl who actually knows what mitochondria do. Same difference."

A crack of lightning split the sky, illuminating everything in stark white — Fox's crooked smile, the puddles reflecting the streetlights, the way his eyes crinkled when he laughed. And for the first time since moving to this town three months ago, Maya didn't feel like an outsider looking in on a life everyone else seemed to know how to live.

"So," she said, as the rain picked up. "About that ride..."

"Yeah." He stood up, offered her a hand. "My mom's literally the slowest human on earth. Want to share my umbrella? It's tragic but it works."

He pulled a comically tiny umbrella from his backpack.

Maya laughed — really laughed, something she hadn't done since before the move. "You're weird, Fox."

"Takes one to know one, Hat Girl." He clicked the umbrella open. It barely covered his head.

They walked the rest of the way huddled together under that pathetic umbrella, getting soaked anyway, talking about everything and nothing. And by the time they reached her house, Maya had her first real friend in this town, a rain-soaked hoodie, and the feeling that maybe — just maybe — she was going to be okay.