Thunderbolts and Tailwags

Maya's mom called her obsessive-compulsive, but Maya preferred the term "prepared." Which is why she was currently swallowing exactly three vitamin supplements before the biggest party of sophomore year.

"You good?" Jordan asked from her doorway, already looking effortless in his thrifted jacket.

"Just boosting my immune system," Maya lied, clicking the pill bottle shut. Actually she was nervous about tonight—the party where Tyler, varsity basketball forward and Maya's crush since September, would finally notice her. Or so she hoped.

Outside, summer lightning forked across the purple sky. Rain drizzled, just enough to make her curls frizz. Perfect.

The party turned out to be exactly as claustrophobic as Maya anticipated. People spilled from the basement, red cups sloshing, bass rattling the windows. She spotted Tyler immediately—laughing with his friends near the makeshift dance floor. Her stomach did that weird plummeting thing, like the drop on a rollercoaster she pretended not to be terrified of.

She spent twenty minutes pretending to text. Then ten more actually texting. Then she saw it: Tyler's cat was loose in the house. A calico named Pickles was perched on the kitchen counter, looking equally unimpressed with everyone's vibe.

"You rescue her yet?" A voice behind her. Tyler. His eyes were darker than she expected.

"I was just—" Maya started, but Pickles chose that moment to knock over an entire bowl of chips. The room went silent. Then someone yelled "BULL!" so loud it sounded like an actual animal.

"That's my friend Carlos," Tyler said, half-smiling. "He gets enthusiastic." His smile crinkled around the edges, and something inside Maya's chest did this weird flutter thing that had nothing to do with anxiety.

"Want help?" she asked, nodding toward Pickles.

They ended up in the laundry room, cat cornered behind the dryer. Tyler talked about basketball without making it sound like the only thing that mattered. Maya mentioned her comic collection, and instead of looking bored, he asked which ones. Lightning cracked somewhere distant, illuminating the tiny space through the window.

"You're actually funny," he said, and it wasn't even a line.

"You're surprised?"

"Honestly? Yeah. You always seem so... intense."

"That's the vitamins," she deadpanned. "I'm basically pharmaceutical."

He laughed. Real laughter, not polite laughter. And when Pickles finally darted between his legs and escaped, he didn't even chase her. He just leaned against the washing machine, their knees almost touching.

"Hey," he said. "Next time—just you, me, less bull around? Maybe that comic shop on 4th?"

Maya's pulse kicked up. Not the anxiety kind. The other kind.

"Yeah," she said, feeling her face heat up. "That would be... not terrible."

He texted her that night. She answered before overthinking it for once. Some nights, she decided, you didn't need supplements. You just needed to be brave enough for what actually mattered.