Three Seconds of Courage

Maya's phone buzzed again. Another DM from Kai.

"u coming 2 Jordan's party?"

She stared at the glowing screen, thumb hovering. The party everyone would be at. Where Kai would be. Where she'd spent the last three weeks imagining scenarios where she finally talked to him—really talked to him—instead of just liking his posts and overanalyzing his emoji choices.

Her little brother's voice cut through her spiral. "Maya! Spots won't eat!"

She groaned and pushed off the bed. Spots was the family goldfish, a rescue from a carnival prize situation that had lived way longer than expected. "You're overfeeding him again, Leo."

"I'm not! Look, he's just staring at the flakes."

Maya peered into the bowl. Spots was indeed just floating there, mouth opening and closing like he was judging everyone's life choices. "He's fine. He's a goldfish, Leo. His entire life is just swimming and eating. You're projecting."

"You're just grumpy because you're scared to go to the party."

Maya's phone lit up again. A new snap from Jordan—*orange solo cups stacked in a pyramid, bodies blurred in motion, laughter frozen in time.* The caption: *party of the year don't be lame*

Her stomach did that thing where it felt simultaneously twisted and hollow, like she'd swallowed something alive.

Outside, the sky had turned that bruised purple color that meant storms were coming. The first rumble of thunder rolled through, low and distant.

"There's literally a storm coming," she muttered, mostly to herself. "Totally valid reason to bail."

"Or," Leo said, with the infuriating insight of annoying little brothers everywhere, "you could go and talk to Kai before someone else does."

Spots did a particularly judgmental flip.

Maya grabbed her hoodie—orange, because the universe had a sense of humor—and headed for the door.

The walk to Jordan's took fifteen minutes, and the storm was building properly now, the air thick and electric. When the first lightning cracked across the sky, so bright it left spots in her vision, she almost turned back.

But she kept walking.

Jordan's house was already thumping with bass when she arrived. The air inside was warm and smelled like cheap body spray and something sweet. Through the crush of bodies, she spotted Kai near the solo cup pyramid, now partially demolished.

He looked up as lightning flashed again, illuminating everything in stark white-blue.

Their eyes met across the room.

He smiled.

Maya's phone buzzed in her pocket—another message from Kai, sent minutes ago: "hope u come"—but she didn't check it. Some moments weren't meant to be captured in pixels, just lived.

She took a breath and moved toward him, the thunder of her heart louder than the storm outside.

Goldfish got a bad rap about having three-second memories. But maybe that wasn't a weakness. Maybe it was about living completely in each moment, no past to regret, no future to overthink.

Just now.

Just this.