When the Sky Split Open

Maya's palms were sweating through her favorite cropped cardigan. Great. First real house party since transferring to Northwood High, and she was already giving herself anxiety hives.

"Chill, you've got this," whispered Leo, her cousin and self-appointed social coach. "Just don't stand in the corner looking like you're auditing the place for the IRS."

Outside, lightning cracked the sky open — the kind that makes everything go white for a split second. The storm had been building all evening, but nobody cared. The bass from Tyler's basement speakers was doing its own kind of weather-making.

Then she saw him: Liam, the soccer captain with the jawline that looked cut from marble and a laugh that made everyone lean in. Maya's stomach did that terrible flippy thing it did whenever someone too attractive for their own good entered a five-mile radius.

She grabbed a snack to look busy, but her brain short-circuited. Spinach artichoke dip. Of course. Because nothing screams "cool and approachable" like having green flecks stuck in your braces while talking to the guy everyone's crushing on.

"Yo, is that actually good?"

Liam. Standing there. Actual human Liam.

"It's... my grandma's recipe?" Why did that sound like a question?

"No way, for real?" He dipped a chip. "My abuela makes this stuff too. I've been looking everywhere for a version that doesn't taste like processed sadness."

Maya blinked. This wasn't supposed to happen. The popular guy wasn't supposed to get excited about spinach dip. He wasn't supposed to have an abuela.

"You can actually taste the artichokes," he said, completely genuine. "This is legit."

Another flash of lightning illuminated everything — his ridiculous eyelashes, the spinach dip, her stupid sweaty palms that weren't even nervous anymore.

"I'm Maya, by the way."

"Liam. And I'm officially obsessed with your grandma's dip." He paused. "Also, you have a little — "

She froze. The spinach. The braces. The mortifying climax of every teen movie ever.

" — in your hair?" He laughed, not mean. "From when the wind caught it outside. You good, Maya. You're good."

And just like that, the party noise faded to background. The storm outside raged, but inside, with spinach artichoke dip and lightning flashing through the windows and someone actually seeing her, Maya thought maybe high school wouldn't be so terrible after all.

Maybe she'd even remember to check a mirror next time. Probably not, though. That would be too easy.