Fox in the Cafeteria

Maya adjusted her neon **orange** beanie, practically vibrating with anxiety. First day at Northwood High, and she'd already managed to spill an entire tray of lunch. The **spinach** from her salad scattered across the floor like tiny green landmines.

"Nice entrance," a voice drawled.

Maya looked up to see Fox—everyone called him that, thanks to his copper hair and the way he moved through social circles like it was nothing. He was the kind of guy who existed in a different zip code of popularity.

"I was just leaving," Maya muttered, grabbing her **water** bottle from the disaster zone.

"Sit." Fox slid into the chair opposite her. "Unless you're allergic to awkard silence."

Maya hesitated, then sat. Fox was notorious—three girlfriends this semester alone, rumored to have a secret TikTok with 50K followers. Maya had spent all summer **spy**-ing on his posts, analyzing his aesthetic like it was homework.

"So," Fox said, "you're the new girl from Portland?"

"How did you—"

"Your accent. You say 'sorry' like it's a question." He grinned. "I'm actually terrible at being popular, by the way. It's exhausting."

Maya blinked. "You're... what?"

"A performance." Fox leaned in. "My followers think I'm mysterious. My exes think I'm unavailable. My mom thinks I'm studying." He checked his phone. "What are you into? Besides public humiliation?"

"Art," Maya said, surprising herself. "And maybe journalism."

"Perfect." Fox slid his phone across the table. "I need someone real to help me document this whole fake life thing. Before I forget who I actually am."

Maya looked at the open camera app. Then at Fox, really looked at him—tired eyes, genuine smile, a little lonely behind the hype.

"Deal," she said. "But I'm not calling you Fox."

"Fair." He pushed his tray aside. "It's Liam, by the way."

And just like that, Maya's disastrous first day became something else entirely: the start of something real in a world of filters and followers.