Thunderstorm Secrets

Maya pulled her black beanie hat lower over her forehead, trying to disappear into the bleachers. It was her third week at Northwood High, and being the new girl still felt like walking through a minefield of judgmental glances and whispered comments.

"Yo, Maya!"

She flinched as Chloe slid onto the bench beside her. Chloe was everything Maya wasn't: confident, popular, seemingly incapable of caring what anyone thought. But there was something about her that made Maya's stomach do that weird fluttery thing.

"You're literally vibrating," Chloe said, bumping her shoulder. "Everything good?"

Maya hesitated, then slid her iphone across the metal seat. The screen displayed Chloe's private Instagram account — @cloclaude_archive — a collection of photos Maya had spent the last week "spying" on. Late night poetry posts. Pictures of vintage cameras. A screenshot from some French indie film. It was like Chloe had a whole secret life that existed only for the twenty followers who knew the account existed.

Chloe's eyes widened. "Wait. You found my alt?"

"I wasn't—" Maya started, heat rising to her cheeks. "It just showed up in my explore, and I—"

"That's actually kind of sick," Chloe interrupted, grinning. "I've been trying to get someone to actually look at it for months. Everyone else just posts selfies and aesthetic coffee cups, you know?"

Outside, the sky cracked open. Lightning split the sky like something from a movie, impossibly bright against the afternoon gray.

"We should probably go inside," Maya said, but neither of them moved.

"So what's your deal?" Chloe asked, tapping her phone against Maya's. "Like, actually. Not the 'I'm new and awkward' vibe you're giving everyone."

Maya laughed, surprised by her own honesty. "I write. Poetry. But I don't show anyone. It feels..."

"Terrifying?" Chloe supplied.

"Exactly."

Chloe typed something on her phone, then slid it back. Maya looked down — a new Instagram handle, @maya_unsaid. Three posts already up, imported from Maya's notes app. Three poems she'd never shown anyone.

"Now we're even," Chloe said, as thunder rattled the bleacher frames. "You saw my secret account. Now you have one too. Welcome to the club, Maya."

Lightning flashed again, catching the smile on Chloe's face. And for the first time in three weeks, Maya didn't want to pull her hat down and disappear. She wanted to be seen.