Three Second Memory

Maya's **iphone** buzzed for the third time in two minutes. Chloe was blowing up her group chat, and honestly? Maya wasn't ready to deal with whatever drama had unfolded since third period.

"She's literally being so extra," the latest message read.

Maya groaned and flopped onto her bed. Her **friend** since kindergarten had been acting different lately—distant, then clingy, then posting those vague Instagram stories that screamed "I need attention but I won't say why."

Her little brother's **goldfish**, Bubbles, stared at her from its bowl on the dresser.

"You get it, right?" Maya whispered. "At least you've got that three-second memory thing going on. Must be nice."

Bubbles opened and closed its mouth like it was agreeing.

Her mom popped her head in. "Don't forget your **vitamin** D, honey! Dr. Patel said you're low again."

"Got it, Mom!" Maya grabbed the gummy vitamin from her nightstand. Because apparently being fifteen meant needing supplements for everything—vitamin D for her bones, vitamin C for her immune system, and emotional vitamin something for whatever was happening with Chloe.

The truth hit Maya suddenly: maybe Chloe wasn't being dramatic. Maybe Maya had been the one ghosting their friendship, too caught up in track practice and her new lab partner Jordan to notice Chloe sliding away.

She grabbed her running shoes and headed out the door. **Running** always cleared her head—the rhythm, the burn in her lungs, the way everything simplified to left foot, right foot, breathe.

Three miles later, Maya sat on a park bench and called Chloe.

"Hey," Chloe answered quietly.

"I'm sorry I've been MIA," Maya said. "Want to come over? We can binge that show you've been talking about."

Chloe's laugh was genuine. "I'd love that."

Back in her room, Maya dropped another gummy vitamin into Bubbles' bowl.

"Don't eat that," she said. "But seriously—maybe three-second memories aren't that great after all. Some things are worth holding onto."