Vitamin C and Social Anxiety

The kitchen counter was my safe zone. At least until Jake materialized next to me, holding that red plastic cup like it contained the secrets of the universe. My heart did that annoying flutter thing it always did when he was within a ten-foot radius, which was ridiculous because he'd barely spoken two words to me all semester.

"You look like you're about to pass out," he said, gesturing at my death grip on my water bottle. "You good?"

"Yeah, just... hydrating." I took a dramatic sip, trying to look casual and failing spectacularly. The condensation on the bottle was making my palm sweat, which was making everything worse.

Jake leaned in closer, all mysterious intensity. "Wanna know what actually helps with nerves?"

I nodded, because apparently my mouth had forgotten how words worked.

He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small plastic container, popping it open with a practiced flick. Inside sat something that looked suspiciously like candy. "My cousin's a bio major. She says these are literally game-changers."

I stared at the orange gummy sitting in his palm. "Is that... a vitamin?"

"It's a vitamin," he confirmed with absolute seriousness, like he'd just revealed nuclear launch codes. "But get this—orange flavor. My mom says Vitamin C is basically natural confidence."

A laugh escaped before I could stop it. Jake's crooked grin appeared, and suddenly the kitchen didn't feel so suffocating anymore.

"I'm Maya, by the way. The girl who's been not-subtly failing at pretending to be normal since seventh period."

"Jake," he said. "The guy who's been not-subtly carrying around gummy vitamins because his mom's convinced he's gonna get scurvy at college parties."

The bass from the living room thrummed through the floorboards, but it felt distant now. Less like a test I was failing and more like... background noise.

"So," Jake said, holding out the vitamin like a peace offering. "Wanna split it? I promise it won't kill you. Probably."

I took it. And for the first time all night, the waves of anxiety in my chest didn't feel like drowning. They felt like water—something I could swim in, something I could navigate.

"Thanks," I said. "For the... you know."

"Yeah," he said, and maybe I imagined it, but his ears looked a little pink. "Anytime, Maya."

The vitamin tasted like artificial orange and possibility. And honestly? Best thing I'd tasted all night.