When The Sky Flashed

Maya's fingers flew across her iPhone screen, captioning the fourth photo of her friends by the pool. "Summer finals," she typed, adding the sparkly emoji because apparently everything needed extra rizz these days.

The graduation pool party at Tyler's house was peak high school social dynamics—the popular crowd clustered around the deep end, the theater kids avoiding water at all costs, and Maya somewhere in the middle, maintaining her carefully curated online persona while her real self felt like a total NPC in her own life.

"You gonna post that or actually swim?" Jordan called out. Maya's stomach did that stupid little flip it always did when Jordan talked to her. He was leaning against the pool edge, water dripping from his hair like something from a movie, and she was holding her iPhone like it was her entire personality.

"Working on it," she managed, because real sentences were apparently impossible around Jordan lately.

Then the sky went purple.

A massive crack of lightning split the sky overhead, and before anyone could process it, the power to the house cut out. The pool lights died. The Bluetooth speakers silenced. Maya's iPhone screen flickered and went dark at 23% battery because apparently the universe had comedic timing.

Everyone screamed. Someone shouted about phone chargers. Maya stood frozen as rain started falling, warm and sudden, turning the pool party into chaos.

Jordan splashed over to her through the sudden downpour. "You okay?"

"My phone," she said lamely, then immediately wanted to take it back. Why did she care about her iPhone when lightning was literally striking?

"Let it die," Jordan said, and something in his voice made her actually look at him instead of through a screen. "Best things happen when you're not documenting them."

Another flash of lightning illuminated his face—he was looking at her with this expression she'd never captured in any photo, never would have noticed if she'd been doomscrolling instead of present. The rain poured harder. The pool reflected the storm-dark sky. Someone shouted they should all go inside but neither of them moved.

"Yeah," Maya said, setting her dead iPhone on a table without checking it. "Yeah, okay."

And when Jordan's hand found hers in the darkness, she didn't reach for her phone to capture it. Some moments weren't for posting. Some were just for living.