Thunderstruck at Tyler's Party

Maya's palms were sweating so bad she could practically fill a water bottle. Not exactly ideal when you're holding a Solo cup and trying to look casual at the biggest party of freshman year.

"You good?" Tyler asked, grinning that smile that made half the volleyball team lose their minds.

"Totally," Maya lied. "Just... appreciating the atmospheric conditions."

Smooth. Really putting that running-backward-in-PE-class energy to good use tonight.

Someone had set up a makeshift fortune-telling station in the corner—complete with a lava lamp and a beaded curtain that definitely came from Amazon. Jordan, who'd been mystical since third grade when she started carrying crystals in her lunchbox, waved Maya over.

"Let me see your palm," Jordan demanded, already grabbing Maya's hand before she could fake an emergency exit.

The tiny crowd that had gathered went silent. Even Tyler stopped doing that thing where he kept pushing his hair off his forehead.

"Hmm," Jordan said, dramatically squinting at Maya's hand like it contained the secrets of the universe. "You're going to have a lightning moment. Soon. Something that changes everything."

Maya's stomach did that thing it did when she forgot to study for a bio test.

"A lightning moment?" someone asked from behind them. "That's literally so vague, Jordan."

But Jordan didn't break character. "The universe doesn't do specifics, Karen."

Before anyone could ask what that was supposed to mean, the sky outside exploded.

Literally.

A crack of thunder shook the house's foundation so hard that the fairy lights flickered. The next second, lightning split the sky, illuminating everything through the sliding glass doors in this weird, otherworldly flash.

And in that moment—probably the weirdest moment of Maya's entire fourteen years of existence—Tyler reached across the circle and squeezed her hand. Her sweaty, gross, definitely-not-cute hand.

"Scared?" he asked, still holding on.

"No," she said, which was also a lie. "Just vibing with the atmospheric conditions again."

He laughed. His hand was warm and his laugh was this real, actual sound, not the fake one he used when teachers made bad jokes.

"Your palm's still sweaty," he whispered, and the embarrassing thing was that he didn't even say it mean.

Outside, the rain started pouring down in sheets. The party kept moving around them, people shifting toward the kitchen or the back deck. But for another thirty seconds, they stayed there, knees touching, hands still kind of holding on, while the storm turned the whole world into something electric and new.

Jordan mouthed 'I told you so' from across the circle.

Maya couldn't even argue with that.