The Last Bar

Maya's iphone stared at her with the same judgment she felt from everyone else. 3% battery. One charging cable left at the entire party, and Jessica was currently using it to livestream her "spontaneous" acoustic set to Instagram.

"You're literally charging right now?" Maya whispered to herself, leaning against the basement wall. This was supposed to be her night—her chance to finally talk to Devon, who she'd been lowkey obsessed with since homeroom. Instead, she was watching Jessica perform for an audience of bots while Devon stood across the room, looking unfairly good in that vintage Nike crewneck.

Maya's older brother had told her before she left: "Don't let anyone treat you like you're basic. You're not some side character in someone else's movie." But honestly? Maya felt like the extra who dies first in every horror film. The one who forgot their phone charger.

Then she saw it—Devon heading toward the stairs, probably escaping to the roof. Same energy as last month when they'd both ditched the pep rally and ended up talking about their mutual hatred for school assemblies. That was the moment Maya knew she wasn't crazy for feeling like they had something.

She pushed off the wall, phone still dying in her pocket. Whatever. If she was going to be awkward, at least she'd be awkward on purpose.

Devon was already sitting on the roof when she climbed through the window, phone in hand.

"You escaping too?" she asked, sitting down beside him.

He laughed—that real laugh, not the perform one everyone else used. "Honestly? Jessica's singing is... a lot."

"Same," Maya said, and they sat there for a minute, watching cars pass on the street below. "My phone's about to die anyway."

"Same," Devon said again. "But whatever. It's actually nice not having to check anything."

And that's when it happened—that moment where everything shifted. Like when you realize the person you've been putting on a pedestal is just another person trying to figure it out.

"Hey," Devon said, turning to her. "You know that county fair next week? The one with the mechanical bull?"

Maya's stomach did that thing where it forgot how to stomach. "Yeah?"

"You wanna go? Like, together? Not as a group thing. Just... us."

She didn't even think before answering. "Yes. Absolutely yes."

"Cool," he said, and they both sat there smiling like idiots while distant music pumped from the basement below. Sometimes the best moments happen when you're running on empty—when you stop performing and just exist.

Maya's phone died two minutes later, and she didn't even care.