Dogging the Deep End

Maya felt like a total creep. She'd been scrolling through Kiara's Instagram for forty-five minutes at 2 AM, analyzing every story like some kind of social FBI agent. Maya called it "research." Her friends called it being a total spy.

"It's not spying if it's public," she muttered. "It's… staying culturally informed."

Her mom's voice cut through: "Maya! Get up! We're going to Jake's pool party in an hour."

Maya groaned. Jake had moved to town last month and immediately ascended to Hamilton High's social throne. He was the kind of guy whose hair looked perfect even after gym class. Meanwhile, Maya was the girl who once tripped over her own feet during a presentation and had to Google "how to be normal" on multiple occasions.

"I'm not going."

"You're going. You've been in your room all weekend."

Fine. Maya texted her best friend Chen: *Pool party at Jake's. Save me.*

*Bet. I'll be there at 1,* Chen replied.

The problem: Buster. Buster was Maya's rescue dog—a nervous, shedding, 60-pound ball of anxiety who hated being alone. Her parents were gone for the day, leaving her no choice but to bring him along.

"This is fine," Maya told herself, walking to Jake's house with Buster pulling at his leash. "Dogs are social icebreakers. People love dogs."

What she forgot: Jake's family had a pool.

She stepped through the gate and immediately wanted to dissolve into the concrete. Everyone was already in the water, laughing, tossing a beach ball. Kiara was there. So were half the lacrosse team. And here came Maya, fully clothed, dog in tow.

"Oh my god, is that a golden retriever?" Kiara asked, actually excited.

"His name's Buster," Maya managed—before Buster spotted a frog and lunged toward the pool.

"Buster, NO!"

Too late. Buster hit the water with a massive splash, drenching Jake and two lacrosse guys.

The pool went silent. Maya's face burned. "I am so sorry," she started, grabbing Buster's leash and preparing to move to a different country.

But then Jake laughed. Not the mean laugh Maya expected. The real kind.

"Dude, that was legendary," he said, shaking water from his hair. "Your dog just canonballed into the deep end. Respect."

Kiara was already petting Buster (now vibrating with pride at his swimming fame). "He's so cute! Maya, why didn't you tell us you had a dog?"

Just like that, the weird spy energy evaporated. Kiara wasn't some untouchable social media deity. She was just a girl who liked dogs. Jake wasn't the king of everything. He was just a guy who got splashed by a random golden retriever and thought it was funny.

"Wanna play chicken fight?" Jake asked. "You can be on my team since your dog already took out half the competition."

Maya looked at Chen, who gave her the tiniest shrug like *might as well.*

"Sure," Maya said, realizing she'd been holding her breath. "But Buster's playing too."

Walking home with a wet, happy dog later, Maya opened Instagram and scrolled through Kiara's story. There was Buster, mid-splash, looking like the legend he was. Maya smiled and finally closed the app.

Spying time was over. She was too busy living it.