Code Name: Citrus

The orange hair was supposed to be the change. The new me. College applications, fresh start, all that. Instead, I just looked like a traffic cone with trust issues.

"You look like you're trying too hard," said Zoe, leveling me with that terrifyingly direct stare she'd mastered since seventh grade. We were squished on her bedroom floor, supposedly studying for AP Bio but mostly doom-scrolling through Instagram stories.

"Whatever," I mumbled, yanking my hood up. "It's called experimenting."

"It's called begging for attention."

Zoe didn't get it. She'd been popular since kindergarten, effortless. Me? I was the girl who sat two tables away from the cool kids, close enough to overhear, far enough to pretend I didn't care. That's when I started spy-ing on them. Not like, creeper status—just strategic observation. Learning the language. The inside jokes. The hierarchy.

Last week, I'd overheard Jayden talking about this underground party. Exclusive. Invitation only. The kind of event that could finally get me a seat at the table before graduation.

"So," Zoe said, suddenly scrolling slower. "Jayden's thing Friday. You going?"

My stomach did that sick lurch thing. "How'd you know about that?"

"Marcus texted me." She didn't look up. "He wants you to come."

"Wait, what?"

"Jayden's dog, Buster?" Zoe finally met my eyes, grinning. "Marcus knows you're obsessed with him. Jayden needs someone to dogsit Friday night while they set up for the party."

I felt my face burning. "I'm not obsessed with Buster!"

"You liked all twelve of his birthday photos. Within thirty seconds."

"He's a GOOD DOG, Zoe."

"So you'll do it?"

I hesitated. Dogsitting. At Jayden's house. The night of THE party. It was pathetic. It was perfect. I'd literally be there. I'd hear everything. I'd—

"Fine," I said. "But only for Buster."

Friday night, I showed up with orange hair and zero dignity. Jayden let me in, distracted. Buster immediately tackled me, tongue everywhere, pure golden love.

"He likes you," Jayden said, surprised. "Thanks for doing this. We'll be back in like two hours."

They left. The house was massive. I could hear music thumping from the basement—pre-party setup. Buster flopped onto my lap, heavy and warm and completely unbothered by my crisis.

"You're the only one who doesn't think I'm a joke, aren't you?" I whispered into his fur.

Buster licked my chin.

An hour later, I heard footsteps. Jayden burst in, followed by Marcus and—Zoe.

"Yo, come downstairs," Jayden said. "Party's starting early."

"But... Buster?" I stammered.

"Bring him," Marcus laughed. "He's the VIP."

Zoe winked at me. "Told you they'd like you."

I stood up, orange hair messy, dog fur all over my hoodie, heart racing. "Wait—you actually want me there?"

"Duh," Jayden said. "You're the only person who actually likes Buster. That's like, instant cred."

I followed them downstairs, orange hair blazing, dog at my heels. Maybe I wasn't a spy anymore. Maybe I was just finally part of the story.