Thunder Thursday

Maya's iPhone buzzed for the third time in five minutes. Another group chat blowing up without her. Again.

'Sry stuck at family dinner' she'd typed earlier, a lie that tasted like stale chips. Truth was, she was curled on her bed with Mochi, her ancient cat who purred like a broken lawnmower. The bear of a calculus test tomorrow loomed over her weekend, and honestly? She just needed a break from being constantly "on."

Then her phone lit up: *JASON'S PARTY. TONIGHT. EVERYONE GOING.*

Maya's stomach did that familiar flip-flop. If she didn't go, she'd miss yet another inside joke, another shared moment that would ripple through Monday's hallway conversations like social lightning. But if she DID go... she'd spend three hours pretending to be someone she wasn't, laughing at jokes that weren't funny, checking her phone every thirty seconds like it was a lifeline.

Mochi headbutted her hand, demanding scratches. Maya buried her face in his soft fur.

"What would you do?" she asked the cat. Mochi just purred louder.

Outside, thunder rumbled. A storm was rolling in.

And suddenly it hit Maya like lightning—she could say no. She could NOT go. The world wouldn't end. Her friends would still be her friends tomorrow. Maybe.

She typed: 'Actually, staying in tonight. Need to study. Have fun tho!'

Sent.

Her heart hammered. But then... nothing. No explosion. No angry texts. Just the group chat continuing without her, and honestly? That was fine.

Maya set her iPhone on her nightstand, face down. Mochi kneaded her blanket like he'd won a prize. The first fat raindrops tapped against her window, rhythmic and real.

Outside, actual lightning flashed, illuminating her room in sudden stark white. For the first time in forever, Maya wasn't performing for anyone. wasn't curating, wasn't comparing.

Just her, a cat, a storm, and the bear of a test tomorrow that she'd actually study for now.

Maybe being alone wasn't the worst thing in the world.

Her phone stayed dark, and somehow, that felt like the bravest thing she'd done all year.