Thunder in Her Pocket

Maya's iphone buzzed in her pocket like a trapped hornet, but she ignored it. Tonight was about proving she belonged.

"You coming?" Lena called from the patio door, holding out a red Solo cup. "Don't be a weirdo."

Weirdo. The word that had followed Maya through every grade, every lunch table, every failed attempt at conversation. But tonight, sophomore year, Maya was determined to bury it.

Outside, the party stretched across someone's backyard. Kids she'd known since kindergarten floated in groups, laughing with practiced ease. Someone's older brother stood by the fence, looking like he'd rather be literally anywhere else.

"Take this." Lena shoved something into Maya's hand. "My cousin says these vitamin things help you chill. Like, legit chill."

Maya stared at the colorful gummies. They looked like the ones her mom bought at Target, but Lena's eyes said different.

"That's such bull," someone said behind them. Jake, the track star who'd sat behind Maya in bio since August. "Those're literally just candy. My sister tried selling them as 'focus vitamins' last year."

Lightning cracked the sky open.

Everyone screamed—but not like they were scared. Like this was exactly the kind of dramatic moment they'd been practicing for. Someone started filming. Another person pretended to faint.

Maya's iphone lit up again: MOM: Pick up? Weather getting bad.

She looked around at everyone performing their authentic selves, the manufactured chaos, the carefully curated rebellion. And suddenly it hit her—nobody actually knew what they were doing. Jake included.

"Actually," Maya said, her voice clearer than she'd ever heard it, "your phone's buzzing."

Jake checked his pocket. "What?"

"Your mom," Maya said. "She's been calling. I heard it during bio on Tuesday too."

The porch went quiet.

"Oh," Jake said. "Yeah. She's—she's been sick."

The performance cracked. Just a little.

Thunder rolled, closer this time. Real this time.

Maya texted her mom back: ON MY WAY.

"Walk with me?" she asked Jake.

He looked at his friends, then at her, then nodded.

They left the party behind, stepping into the warm summer rain, and somewhere between the porch and the sidewalk, Maya stopped trying to be anyone but herself.