Fox in Orange Hoodie

Marcus felt like a total spy every time he slipped his phone under his desk during Mrs. G's algebra lectures. Not the cool James Bond kind – more like the desperate I need to know if she posted kind.

He was running on zombie mode, three hours of sleep and three energy deeps deep into the week. The Halloween horror marathon he'd binged until 3 AM was absolutely not worth it.

Then she walked in.

Maya.

She was wearing this bright orange hoodie – like, actually orange, not that soft peach stuff everyone wore to look aesthetic. It practically glowed against the sea of navy, black, and gray that made up their high school's unofficial uniform. She stood out. She didn't care.

Marcus's brain short-circuited. His character sheet from last night's D&D session floated through his mind – he'd played a fox shifter who could change forms but kept getting stuck mid-transformation. That was him. Stuck between version A of himself (gamer, honors student, invisible) and whoever version B was supposed to be.

Someone who'd actually talk to Maya.

The bell rang.

Marcus grabbed his backpack and – because the universe had a twisted sense of comedy – tripped over absolutely nothing. His phone clattered across the floor, slid directly under Maya's orange converse.

She picked it up.

"Nice," she said, reading his screen. "D&D? Fox shifter?"

Marcus felt his face burn. "Yeah. It's... kind of lame."

"Dude." Maya's eyes lit up. "I DM a campaign on weekends. We need a rogue." She tossed his phone back with a grin. "You in or what?"

Later, Marcus would realize this was it – the moment his zombie-fried brain woke up. The moment he stopped spying on his own life from the sidelines and actually started playing.

But for now?

"I'm in," he said.

And for the first time all week, he didn't feel invisible at all.