Unplugged

Riley's phone died at 11:47 PM—exactly twelve minutes before Jake Miller was supposed to DM her about the party. She stared at the black screen, heart pounding, realizing she'd forgotten her charging cable at home. Again.

"You good?" Maya appeared beside her, solo cup in hand, glittery makeup somehow still perfect after three hours of dancing.

"Phone's dead. Can't believe I'm saying this, but I feel... free?" Riley laughed, but her eyes kept darting toward the door.

Maya rolled her eyes. "Girl, Jake's not gonna magically appear. Plus, you already have, like, twelve thousand followers on TikTok. Why are you stressing about one guy?"

"It's not about—" Riley stopped herself. It was exactly about that. The numbers, the likes, the carefully curated aesthetic. She'd been running herself ragged trying to maintain an online persona that felt increasingly distant from the actual girl standing in this kitchen.

"Whatever," Maya said, softer this time. "I'm gonna find Sofia. You coming?"

Riley shook her head. "Gonna find an outlet. Maybe someone has a cable I can borrow."

But as she wandered through the crowded house, something shifted. Without her phone, she noticed things: the way the basement lights flickered every few seconds, how someone had written "COOL KIDS ONLY" on the bathroom door in what looked suspiciously like lipstick, the genuine laughter from a group playing beer pong in the corner without filming it for TikTok.

Then she saw Jake. He wasn't checking his phone or waiting by the door. He was in the backyard, sitting on a plastic lawn chair, having what looked like the most intense conversation of his life with some girl from the volleyball team. Their hands were close. Too close.

Riley's stomach did that thing it does when you realize you've been the main character in your own movie, but everyone else is living in a completely different genre.

She turned around and walked out the front door, barefoot. Her car was three blocks away. She started running, gravel crunching under her feet, night air cold against her skin. No notifications. No filters. No performative anxiety.

"Hey!" A voice called behind her.

Riley slowed down. Maya was standing on the porch, holding something up.

"Found your charging cable," she yelled. "And also, Jake's been asking where you went. Like, actually asking. In person."

Riley stood there, breath visible in the streetlight. The cable dangled from Maya's hand like a lifeline she suddenly wasn't sure she wanted to grab.

"Keep it," Riley called back. "I'm good."

Maya grinned, clearly confused but playing along. "Okay, then. Want a ride?"

Riley hesitated, then smiled. "Actually, yeah. But we're blasting early 2000s pop the whole way. No aux cord required."

"Deal." Maya tossed the cable into the bushes. Both of them laughing as they walked toward her car, completely, wonderfully unconnected.