Three Seconds of Courage

Maya stared at the gelatinous blob on her paper plate. Her so-called best friend Chloe had promised these gummy vitamins tasted like peach, but this one was definitely nuclear-berry flavored. The kind of artificial brightness that made your tongue feel like it was glowing.

"You're not actually taking that, right?" said Ryan, leaning against the kitchen island like he owned it. Which, given his dad's fortune, he practically did. His stupidly perfect white teeth flashed with a grin that made half the junior class weak in the knees.

Maya swallowed the vitamin anyway. She needed the courage.

"Whatever." She crossed her arms, then uncrossed them because it looked defensive. Whatever defensive meant.

The house was packed—Ryan's birthday, apparently a major social event that had somehow snuck up on everyone except the entire student body. The bass from whatever premium playlist was thumping made the goldfish bowl on the counter ripple with every drop. The poor goldfish inside was practically breakdancing.

Maya caught its tiny eye. Same, buddy. Same.

"You know," Ryan continued, because boys like Ryan never learned when to stop, "I heard you're trying out for the play. That's... bold."

She recognized the tone. The one that said 'bold' meant 'you're gonna crash and burn and it'll be entertaining.'

"Yeah, well," Chloe's voice suddenly appeared in Maya's ear, "Maya's been practicing forever. She's gonna kill it."

Maya shot Chloe a look. Since when was she on Maya's side? Since when was she not throwing Maya under the bus to impress the popular crowd? The same popular crowd that had decided Maya's cat videos were 'cringe' but somehow their own lip-sync content was 'art.'

"That's bull," Ryan laughed, scanning the room like a shark checking for prey. "No offense, but everyone knows the drama teacher's niece gets the lead. Always."

The goldfish did a little flip.

Maya felt something shift in her chest. Maybe it was the vitamin kicking in. Maybe it was the way Ryan said 'no offense' like it made the insult hurt less. Maybe it was just that she was tired of feeling small.

"Actually," she said, her voice steady for the first time all night, "his niece moved to Chicago last month."

Ryan paused. His face did that thing where the smile froze before sliding off. "Oh. Well. Still."

"Still nothing." Maya surprised herself. "Also, your cat video from Tuesday? The one where you're 'surprised' by the laser? The cat was looking at your phone the whole time. Staged."

Silence stretched across the kitchen island like tightrope.

Chloe gasped. Ryan's perfect smile finally cracked.

The goldfish did another flip, this one with genuine flourish.

"Wait, how'd you know that?" Ryan demanded.

"I have eyes, Ryan." Maya picked up another gummy vitamin. Peach this time. She could tell by the color. "Also, you posted it. Everyone saw it. We just didn't say anything because we're not terrible."

He stared at her. Actually stared. Like he was seeing her for the first time.

"Huh," he said. Then, unexpectedly: "You're... different than I thought."

"Different good or bad?" Maya challenged.

Ryan thought about it. The goldfish swam three laps.

"Different," he said finally. "Not boring, at least."

Chloe was grinning now. Actually grinning, not her usual performative smile.

Maya swallowed the second vitamin. Maybe they really did give you superpowers. Or maybe this was just what growing up felt like—less like a transformation scene in a movie, more like slowly realizing you didn't have to shrink to fit inside rooms that were too small.

The goldfish did one last flip, satisfied.

Maya smiled back at Ryan. Not small. Not shrinking. Different.

She could work with that.