Thunder Static

Maya's mom dropped her off three blocks from Tyler's house because apparently that's what cool parents do when their freshman daughter gets invited to her first high school party. The walk felt like three miles in her new Doc Martens that were definitely not broken in yet.

Inside, the bass thumped against Maya's chest. She clutched her iphone like a lifeline, thumb hovering over her best friend's text thread. "You got this," it read. She didn't feel like she had this. She felt like she was about to throw up.

"Hey!"

Maya jumped. It was Tyler, grinning with that easy confidence that made everyone like him instantly. He was wearing that backwards baseball hat like it was permanently fused to his head. God, why did that look so effortless on him?

"Glad you made it," he said. "Want a tour?"

"Sure," Maya squeaked. Smooth. Really smooth.

They ended up on the back porch as the first storm clouds rolled in. The party noise muffled through the sliding door. Tyler pulled a joint from his hat—of course it was in the hat—and offered her some. She'd never smoked anything in her life.

"Nah, I'm good," she said, trying to sound casual instead of terrified.

"Cool." He lit up anyway, exhaling a cloud of smoke. "So, what's your deal? Like, what are you into?"

Maya's iphone buzzed in her hand. A distraction. But instead of checking it, she shoved it in her pocket.

"Music," she said. "I'm really into producing beats. Like, on my laptop. It's kind of my thing."

Tyler's eyes lit up. "No way. I've been looking for someone to collab with. I rap a little."

Lightning cracked across the sky, illuminating everything in stark white. For a second, Maya saw something genuine in his expression—something real behind the cool guy exterior.

"Yeah," she said, surprising herself. "I'd actually love to hear your stuff."

Thunder rumbled, shaking the porch boards. But Maya wasn't thinking about the storm anymore. She was thinking about beats and rhymes and how maybe, just maybe, she belonged here after all.