Three Seconds of Thunder

Maya's palm were sweating. Like, actually dripping—gross, but real—and she kept wiping them on her dress like that would somehow make the moisture vanish into the ether instead of just making her outfit damp.

Outside, lightning cracked across the sky like someone had taken a photo of God's flash going off. Perfect. The universe was literally providing dramatic lighting for her anxiety.

"You good?" Jordan asked, leaning against the kitchen counter like he owned the place. Which, technically, his parents did. This was his house. His party. His social territory that Maya had ventured into like a nervous explorer.

"Yeah, totally," Maya lied. "Just... checking something."

She pulled out her iphone, thumb hovering over Instagram Stories like her life depended on finding something—anything—to do that wasn't standing here awkwardly while Jordan's dog, a golden retriever named Buster who was apparently the real guest of honor, trotted around looking for someone to pet him.

Maya had been crushing on Jordan since September, when they'd been assigned as lab partners and he'd somehow made dissecting a frog seem like the most hilarious thing that had ever happened in the history of science class. Now it was December, they'd been texting for weeks, and she was finally at his holiday party. And instead of being charming and funny and effortlessly cool like she'd practiced in front of her mirror approximately seven hundred times, she was mostly just standing there holding a red Solo cup filled with something that definitely wasn't alcoholic but was definitely suspicious.

"You want some dip?" Jordan gestured toward a bowl on the counter. "My mom made it. It's got spinach and artichoke. It's actually fire."

Maya's stomach dropped. Spinach. The ultimate dental sabotage. She'd literally just spent ten minutes in the bathroom checking her teeth for any signs of lunch leftovers. Now she had to navigate eating spinach dip in front of her crush without ending up with green stuck in her braces like some kind of middle school nightmare flashback.

"Sure," she heard herself say. Because apparently her mouth was operating on autopilot now.

She dipped a chip, took a bite, and immediately knew something was wrong. Not with the dip—the dip was amazing. No, something was wrong with Jordan. He was looking at her. Not like, glancing. Actually looking.

"Your braces," he said, and Maya's soul prepared to leave her body. "You got them off last week, right?"

Maya froze. The braces were gone. She'd spent four years in metal mouth territory and they were finally off, and she was currently standing here with spinach dip in her teeth like she'd learned absolutely nothing.

"Yeah," she managed. "Last Tuesday."

"That's sick," Jordan said. "Your smile looks really different. Good different."

Outside, another flash of lightning illuminated the kitchen, and for three seconds, Maya's brain stopped spiraling. Jordan was smiling. Not in a polite way. In a way that made his nose crinkle a little at the corners.

"Thanks," she said, and this time, she actually meant it.

Buster chose that moment to trot over and shove his nose into Jordan's hand, demanding attention. Jordan laughed, scratching behind the dog's ears, and Maya realized her palms had stopped sweating. The galaxy-brain terror of social interaction had momentarily paused, replaced by something softer.

Maybe that's what growing up was—not suddenly becoming confident and perfect, but having moments where you weren't completely falling apart. Moments where lightning struck and instead of frying you, it just made everything brighter for a second.

"Hey," Jordan said. "You want to get some air? The storm's supposed to be crazy tonight."

Maya smiled, and this time, she didn't check her reflection first. "Yeah," she said. "I'd love that."