Three Seconds of Lightning

Mateo stared at his iPhone screen, thumb hovering over Maya's Instagram story. She was at Jordan's party tonight. Everyone was at Jordan's party. He wasn't.

"You're not actually thinking about going, are you?" his sister Sofia called from the couch. "Last week you couldn't even order pizza without practicing what to say first."

Mateo shoved the phone in his pocket. "Shut up."

"I'm just saying, you've been running from this since seventh grade." Sofia shrugged. "Whatever, though. Your funeral, literally, socially speaking."

The weird thing was, Jordan's house was only three blocks away. And it was barely 9 PM. And Maya had posted that story specifically because she knew he'd see it.

His feet were moving before his brain could overthink it.

Outside, the air was thick—weather app said thunderstorms coming. Perfect. Mateo walked faster, heart pounding like he'd just finished a 5K. The closer he got to Jordan's house, the more he wanted to turn around. This was such bull. Why did everything have to be so dramatic? Why couldn't he just be normal?

He was three houses away when he heard the music change. Florida Georgia Line. Oh god. They were doing country night.

Mateo turned to leave—except there was Maya, standing on the front porch, holding a papaya smoothie for some reason, looking right at him like she'd manifested him there with pure willpower.

"You're finally here," she said, like she'd been waiting. "Try this. Jordan's mom went to a farmers market and now we're all forced to pretend papaya is good."

He took the cup. It was actually terrible.

"So," Maya said, "inside there's a mechanical bull and somehow Jordan's younger sister is better at it than everyone, and I'm hiding out here, and you should probably come inside before she challenges you and destroys your ego."

Mateo smiled. "I'd rather just stand here with this terrible smoothie."

"Good." Maya leaned against the railing. "Me too."

Lightning cracked somewhere in the distance. Thunder rolled ten seconds later. The air between them felt electric, like something huge was about to happen—like they were on the edge of everything.

"You know," Maya said, "I only posted that story because I knew you'd come."

"Bull," Mateo said, and Maya laughed, bright and surprised.

"Okay, fair." She stepped closer. "But you're here now."

He was. And suddenly all the anxiety, all the running away, all the overthinking—it all just stopped. Because she was right there, expecting him, wanting him there.

Three seconds. That's all it took. Three seconds of looking at Maya in the porch light, feeling lightning strike somewhere in his chest, knowing he'd never be the same.

"Yeah," Mateo said. "I'm here now."