The Storm Before the Signal

Maya stared at the **orange** hoodie draped over her desk chair for twenty minutes, debating whether it screamed 'I'm trying too hard' or 'effortlessly cool.' Her mom yelled from downstairs about her **vitamin** D deficiency—again—as if that mattered more than the fact that Kai had finally noticed her texts after two weeks of radio silence.

They'd been **friend**-adjacent since seventh grade, sitting near each other in classes but never quite crossing that invisible line. Now he'd invited her to 'hang out and game' this Friday, and Maya's stomach was doing gymnastics that would impress her PE teacher.

She grabbed the hoodie. No going back now.

The thunder cracked overhead like the sky was splitting open. Perfect. The weather app showed **lightning** in the area for the next three hours. Great timing, universe. She flopped onto her bed and reached for the charging **cable**—her phone was at 4%, naturally—but her hand knocked against her Switch instead. The screen flickered with the low-battery warning.

Double panic.

Her phone buzzed. Kai: 'hey, u still coming over? storm's getting crazy lol'

Maya's thumbs hovered over the keyboard. She could bail. Make an excuse about the power, her mom, anything. But then she'd be back to sitting near him in English, pretending nothing had changed, while he moved on to someone braver.

'yea, omw!' she typed back before her brain could protest.

The rain lashed against her window as she threw on the orange hoodie. It was brighter than she remembered. Too bright. Whatever. She grabbed her backpack, shoving in the Switch, the cable, and—for reasons she couldn't explain—the bottle of gummy vitamins on her desk.

The bus ride was three stops of pure overthinking. What if he'd only invited her as a joke? What if she was reading everything wrong?

Kai answered the door in gray sweats and that same faded band shirt he'd worn since eighth grade. 'Hey,' he said, and for once his voice wasn't weird. 'You actually came through that?' He gestured at the rain.

'Your mom's **cable** internet is better than mine anyway,' she said, because apparently her brain had decided smooth talking wasn't happening today.

He laughed. Actually laughed. 'Fair. Also, you look good in orange.'

Maya felt something inside her unclench. The storm outside didn't matter. The vitamins her mom obsessed over didn't matter. The friend-adjacent status she'd been stuck in for years didn't matter.

They sat on his floor, controllers in hand, while **lightning** flashed against his window in time with the game's explosions. And for the first time, Maya wasn't thinking about what came next. She was just here. And apparently, that was enough.