The Lightning Text

Jordan's iPhone buzzed for the third time in five minutes, the screen lighting up like a tiny supernova against the dark ceiling. 2:47 AM. Perfect.

Outside, thunder rattled the window frames like the sky was throwing a tantrum. Jordan's golden retriever, Buster, whimpered from his spot at the foot of the bed, his usual confident golden-boy energy replaced by pure panic. The dog hated storms. Always had, probably always would.

"Bro, it's just noise," Jordan mumbled, scratching behind Buster's ears. But his own heart was doing gymnastics.

The iPhone screen showed Maya's name again. Three unanswered texts. The first one had been fine—"hey wyd"—classic low-stakes midnight reach-out. But the second one? The second one had changed everything.

"i think i like u"—straight up, no ambiguity, no emoji cushion. Jordan had stared at those four letters like they were ancient hieroglyphs demanding translation.

The third message, delivered three minutes ago: "???"

Lightning flashed outside, flooding the room with momentary daylight. Buster buried his face in Jordan's comforter, trembling. Typical. The dog who chased squirrels and barked at mailmen with absolute conviction was currently losing his mind over some atmospheric electricity.

Jordan's thumbs hovered over the screen. What was he supposed to say? The honest answer was "me too" followed by approximately seven paragraphs of feelings he'd been suppressing since seventh grade science when Maya had let him borrow her pen and their fingers had brushed and the whole world had tilted sideways.

But typing that felt like jumping off a cliff without checking for water first.

Another lightning bolt, closer this time. The room flared white. In that split second of illumination, Jordan caught his own reflection in the darkened window—eyes wide, phone gripped like a lifeline, dog pressed against his side like they were both waiting for something to hit.

"Okay," Jordan whispered. "Okay."

His fingers moved before his brain could sabotage him.

"me 2 btw"

Send.

The delivered receipt appeared instantly. Then the three dancing dots. Buster's trembling slowed slightly against Jordan's leg. The storm raged on, but something had shifted.

When Maya's reply came—"finally took u long enough lol 😘"—Jordan didn't even care that his face was heating up like a furnace. Some things, apparently, were worth the wait.

Buster lifted his head, thumped his tail once against the mattress, and settled back down. Crisis averted. Storm survived.

Jordan's iPhone screen dimmed, but for the first time all night, the darkness didn't feel quite so scary.