Fox Mode

Maya stared at the vitamin gummies arranged on her desk like tiny gelatin soldiers. Vitamin D for mood, Vitamin C for immune, Vitamin B for energy—her mom's daily briefing text lit up her phone. "Remember your vitamins! Immune system = social system!"

Whatever that meant.

She popped the orange one and opened Instagram. Her fingers moved on autopilot, stalking—that's right, *spying*—on Riley's profile from the safety of her own room. Three new posts since yesterday. The first one: Riley with that effortless grin, hair like a copper **fox** in the cafeteria lighting. She'd actually heard someone call him that last week—"Riley Fox, man, always three steps ahead." The nickname stuck because it was true. He moved like he knew secrets about everyone.

Maya had been in Riley-adjacent social orbit since seventh grade, but they'd never had a *real* conversation. Just hallway nods and borrowed pencils. Until last Tuesday, when he'd dropped his sketchbook in the cafeteria.

She'd picked it up, expecting doodles or anime characters. Instead, page after page of charcoal drawings—her. Not creepy-obsessive, but *seeing* her. Reading under the oak tree. Laughing with her friends at lunch. Frowning at a chemistry test. Each drawing captured something she didn't know anyone noticed.

He'd appeared beside her, face flushed like he'd run a mile. "You weren't supposed to—" Then he'd frozen, caught.

"Riley Fox," she'd said, stunned. "You **spy** on people?"

"No," he'd said, grabbing the book. "I observe. There's a difference."

"Observing people secretly without them knowing? That's literally spying."

He'd hesitated, then lowered his voice. "I'm gonna need those **vitamin** gummies back."

"What?"

"The ones you took from my locker last month. I saw you."

Maya's face burned. She *had* swiped his gummies once, thinking nobody was watching. "That was ONE TIME."

"And I noticed." His expression softened. "I notice everything about you, Maya. That's the thing."

Now, days later, Maya's phone buzzed. Riley's name. "Meet me by the oak tree after school. I have something for you."

Her heart did that stupid fluttery thing. Was this a confession? A confrontation? A

**sphinx** riddle she had to solve? She grabbed her backpack, vitamin gummies clinking inside, and headed out. The hallway stretched before her like a challenge she was suddenly ready to meet.

Fox mode activated.