The Night I Didn't Die (Almost)

I looked like a zombie. No joke — three hours of sleep and too much concealer will do that to you. My hair was doing that weird static thing that happens when you're nervous, and I was seriously questioning every life choice that led to standing in Emma's backyard at 11 PM on a Friday.

"You good, bro?" Marcus asked, offering me a lukewarm soda.

"Yeah. Just great. Totally not panicking about the whole 'talk to Jordan' thing."

Jordan. The reason I'd spent forty-five minutes styling my hair, even though it ended up looking the same anyway. Jordan, who was currently laughing at something Jake said across the yard.

My dog, Buster, would've been better at this than me. Buster could just wag his tail and get attention. I had to, like, actually talk.

Then it happened. Lightning — literal lightning — split the sky above us. Everyone screamed. Jordan stumbled back, straight into my space.

"Oh my god," they said, grabbing my arm. Their hand was warm. My brain short-circuited. "That was terrifying."

"Yeah," I managed, sounding like I'd never spoken English before. "Super scary."

Weirdly, it wasn't. The lightning strike felt like something out of a movie, except I was the awkward side character who forgot their lines.

"I had to bear witness to that," said Emma, dramatically. "History in the making."

"You're so dramatic," Jordan said, but they were still holding my arm. Not letting go.

Inside, I was screaming. Outside, I think I might have smiled like a normal person for the first time all night.

"Wanna get some food?" Jordan asked. "The zombie makeup from my cosplay shoot earlier is making me hungry."

Cosplay. Jordan did cosplay. That was the most normal, relatable thing I could've heard.

"Yeah," I said, and this time it didn't sound like a question. "I'd like that."

Marcus shot me a thumbs-up from across the yard. My hair was still a mess. I still looked like a zombie. But somehow, none of that mattered anymore.