When Lightning Strikes

Maya leaned against the chain-link fence, watching from the dugout as Cody crushed another baseball into the outfield. Senior year. The boy she'd been lowkey obsessed with since sophomore PE was finally single, and she was still just Maya—the quiet girl who sat behind him in AP Bio and forgot how to speak whenever he turned around.

"You're staring again," Jordan said, sliding onto the bench beside her and snapping their gum. "It's giving obsession. It's giving 'I memorized his schedule' energy."

"Shut up," Maya muttered, but her cheeks burned. "I'm not obsessing. I'm observing. There's a difference."

"There's a party at Tyler's tonight. His parents are out of town, and he's got that huge pool." Jordan raised their eyebrows. "Cody will be there. This is your moment, bestie. Slide into those DMs, or like, actually talk to him in person for once."

The mere thought made Maya's stomach do gymnastics. Social situations weren't exactly her strong suit. She was more of a 'hide in her room with books and overthink every conversation she'd ever had' kind of person.

But later that night, there she was—standing by Tyler's enormous pool, clutching a red solo cup like it was a lifeline, wearing a swimsuit she'd spent three hours stressing over. The backyard was packed. Music thumped. People laughed. And somewhere in the chaos, Cody existed.

Then the sky opened up.

No, seriously—one minute it was a perfect June evening, the next the sky went purple and lightning shattered across the clouds like something out of a movie. The party groaned. People scrambled toward the house.

And Maya? She forgot how to person.

She ended up stranded under the patio overhang with Cody himself, both of them dripping wet, watching the rain absolutely pour down while everyone else crowded inside.

"So," Cody said, grinning at her like she wasn't the most awkward human on the planet. "You're Maya, right? From Bio?"

"Yeah," she managed, her voice doing that embarrassing squeaky thing. "And you're Cody. The baseball guy."

"The baseball guy," he repeated, laughing. "I guess that's my brand now."

Another lightning flash illuminated everything, and for a second, their eyes met in the weird electric glow between them.

"I've been wanting to talk to you for like, forever," he said, suddenly serious. "But you always seemed like you were in your own world."

Maya's heart did something genuinely concerning in her chest. "I was overthinking everything," she admitted. "As usual."

"Well," Cody said, moving a little closer. "You don't have to overthink this."

The storm raged on, but for once, Maya wasn't thinking at all.