The Vitamin C Conspiracy

Maya felt like a total spy sometimes, lurking in the bathroom stall during lunch just to avoid the cafeteria chaos. She'd mastered the art of silent observation, gathering intel on who sat with whom, which couples had definitely broken up, and why Tyler's squad was being weirdly quiet since the incident at homecoming.

Her escape strategy involved precision timing: slip out exactly when the bell rang, book it to her locker, and spend lunch period in the art room. Ms. Reynolds never asked questions. She just handed Maya charcoal and let her draw.

She burst through the front door after school, her backpack heavy with unfinished assignments and social exhaustion. Barnaby — her orange tabby cat — wound around her ankles like he hadn't been fed since breakfast. Which he had, but cats were notoriously dramatic about their suffering.

"Mom's making you take those vitamin gummies again, right?" her little brother called from the living room, not looking up from his phone.

Maya rolled her eyes so hard it actually hurt. The vitamin situation had evolved into a full-blown battle. Her mom had bought these massive orange-flavored multivitamins that apparently tasted like "chemical sunshine," according to Maya. She'd been secretly flushing them down the toilet until her mom caught on and switched to the gummy version, which somehow tasted worse.

She grabbed a water bottle from the fridge — her fifth of the day, but anxiety made her thirsty, whatever — and collapsed onto her bed. Her phone lit up.

Caleb: hey

Her stomach did that thing where it forgot how to exist. Caleb from calculus, who'd asked to borrow her notes on Tuesday and somehow kept finding reasons to talk to her since.

Caleb: u going to lily's party friday?

Maya stared at the screen. Parties were where social hierarchies got reinforced, where someone would definitely say something awkward, and where Maya usually ended up in a corner pretending to be deeply interested in someone's dog. But Caleb was asking. Caleb, who sat two rows behind her and whose laugh sounded like someone actually meant it.

She pictured herself there — orange cup in hand, making awkward small talk near the water cooler, while Barnaby waited at home wondering why his human voluntarily subjected herself to social torture.

Or she could say yes. She could show up and let herself be seen.

The water bottle sweated in her hand. Maya typed back before she could overthink it.

Maya: yeah im going

Her phone showed he was typing back.

Caleb: cool. save me a dance?jk unless...

Maya buried her face in her pillow, screaming while Barnaby hopped onto the bed, purring like he'd orchestrated the whole thing from the start.