Thunder in the Gymnasium

The pep rally déjà vu hit Maya like a freight train. Same bleachers, same screaming sophomores, same way Tyler's eyes always found hers from the basketball court before darting away. She'd been crushing on him since that one chemistry lab partner rotation in October, and somehow it was already April and she was still trapped in the awkward zone between "they tolerate each other" and "something more." The absolute worst part? That stage bull mascot head she had to wear for cheerleading. Nothing screamed *dignified* like sweating through a foam cow skull while trying to look like you had your life together.

The gym's fluorescent lights flickered once, twice, then died completely. A collective gasp rippled through the student body as emergency lights bathed everything in creepy red hues. The speakers crackled—someone's mic was still on—and through the static, Principal Miller's voice boomed: "Everyone remain calm. Weather advisory. Severe thunderstorm approaching."

*Lightning* split the sky outside the windows, illuminating Tyler's face for one split second. He looked terrified. Of course. The guy who could drain three-pointers blindfolded was scared of storms. Maya found herself moving before she could overthink it, slipping through the crowd toward where he stood frozen near the baseline.

"Hey," she said, somehow making her voice steady. "Wanna help me get this stupid bull head to the equipment room? It's creepy in the dark."

Tyler's eyes met hers, and something shifted. "Yeah. Thanks."

They navigated through confused classmates, the massive foam mascot head between them like an awkward third wheel. The equipment room smelled like old rubber and floor wax, darker than anywhere else in the school. Maya's heart was doing gymnastics that had nothing to do with cheer practice.

"So," Tyler said, leaning against a stack of gym mats. "This is... weirdly nice?"

*Thunder* rattled the building so hard the floor vibrated beneath them. Maya realized she was still holding onto one of the bull horns. She let go like it burned.

"I can't *bear* these storms," Tyler admitted quietly. "Dumb, right? Like, I'm not five."

"It's not dumb," Maya said, and she meant it. "I hate them too."

They sat in the comfortable dark for twenty minutes while the storm raged outside, talking about everything except what they were actually talking about. College applications. Their weird English teacher. How ridiculous it was that they were hiding in an equipment room with a mascot head.

When the lights finally flickered back on, neither of them moved immediately.

"Hey," Tyler said, looking at her like he was actually seeing her for the first time. "You want to grab food after school? Like, actually?"

Maya's smile was so wide it actually hurt. "Yeah. Actually."

The bull head stayed in the equipment room. Some things were worth leaving behind.