The Vitamin Pact

Maya's mom stood in the kitchen doorway, holding out the orange bottle like it was a peace offering. "It's just a **vitamin**, Maya. Not poison."

Maya rolled her eyes so hard it actually hurt. "Mom, I'm fifteen. I think I can decide if I want to consume a chalky orange tablet that smells like regret."

Her mom sighed, that heavy disappointed sigh that made Maya feel guilty even though she knew she was being dramatic. The truth was, Maya's mom was right—the vitamin D deficiency thing was real. But taking it felt like admitting weakness, and at Northwood High, admitting you needed anything from anyone was social suicide.

Her phone buzzed. Jenna: *party at Tyler's tonight. U coming?*

Maya typed back: *can't. family dinner.*

Jenna: *again? ur parents are actually obsessed w u*

Maya didn't respond. Because Jenna wasn't wrong, and that was the worst part.

Outside, the neighborhood chaos began. Mrs. Henderson's **dog**—some sort of chaotic golden retriever mix—barked at nothing, probably a leaf or its own shadow. Maya loved how dogs just... existed. No overthinking. No social hierarchies. Just pure, unfiltered energy.

Then she saw it: the neighborhood stray **cat**, a sleek black shadow with yellow eyes, perched on the fence like it owned everything. It watched the dog lose its mind, completely unbothered. Maya felt a weird kinship with that cat. Some days she felt like she was observing her own life from the outside, watching everyone else perform existence while she just took notes.

"Your dad's working late again," her mom said, softer now. "It's just us. But I ordered sushi."

Maya looked at the vitamin bottle on the counter. Then at her mom, who looked tired in that way parents do when they're trying so hard. She thought about Jenna's party, about performing coolness, about the exhausting game of it all.

She picked up the bottle and swallowed one pill without water.

"Fine," Maya said. "But I'm picking the sushi place."

Her mom smiled. "Deal."

Outside, the dog finally stopped barking. The cat stretched and vanished into the night. Maya's phone buzzed again, but she ignored it. Some nights, staying in felt like rebellion enough.