Friday Night Reconnaissance

The brim of my lucky hat kept sliding over my eyes as I crouched behind the specimen cabinet in the science hallway. Not my finest moment, honestly, but when your former best friend starts sitting with the people who made your life miserable last semester, you do questionable things.

I felt like a total zombie—three hours of sleep will do that to you. I'd spent half the night doomscrolling through Jordan's Instagram, watching them live this shiny new life where I apparently didn't exist. Now here I was, in full creep mode, trying to figure out what I'd done wrong without actually, you know, asking.

"You're being a spy again," Maya had told me that morning. "Just text them."

Maya didn't understand. You can't just text someone who's been your person since fourth grade and ask why they're suddenly someone else's person. That's not how it works.

The bell rang. Perfect timing—Jordan would be heading to lunch alone before meeting up with the new crew. I adjusted my hat and prepared to casually "run into" them, even though I'd been planning this moment for days like a tactical operation.

Then I saw it.

A giant, vibrant piece of spinach wedged between Jordan's front teeth as they laughed at something on their phone. The kind of thing that would have sent seventh-grade-me into hysterics, the kind of inside joke we used to live for.

Old instincts kicked in. I didn't think. I just stepped out from behind the cabinet.

"Yo, Jordan. You've got—" I pointed at my own teeth.

Jordan jumped, fumbled their phone, then stared at me for what felt like an eternity. I braced myself for the awkward brush-off, the cool kid dismissal.

Instead, their shoulders dropped. "Oh my god, how long?"

"Since you turned the corner by the math department," I admitted. "I was—well, I was being a weirdo about it."

Jordan laughed, this time covering their mouth. "I was literally just thinking about you. The new group is... honestly, they make everything feel like a performance. I miss being able to have spinach in my teeth without worrying about my brand."

"Your brand?" I raised an eyebrow.

"Don't make me say it out loud." Jordan grinned, then hesitated. "You wanna... I don't know, get actual food? Somewhere where nobody cares about appearances?"

I adjusted my hat, suddenly feeling less like an undercover operative and more like just a person talking to my friend.

"Only if you promise to never mention the recon mission to anyone ever."

"Deal. But you're never living down the hat."

"Fair enough."

We walked to lunch together, and for the first time in months, I didn't feel like I was watching from the sidelines anymore.