Midnight Fox

The vitamin gummies lived in the kitchen cabinet, orange-chewy witnesses to my midnight escapes. Mom's latest obsession—"for focus," she'd said, though they mostly sat untouched while I sneaked out.

I slid the window up, grateful my room was on the first floor. The backyard transformed at night—our rusty swing set becoming a skeleton against the moonlight. That's when I saw it.

A fox.

Not like, a cute little thing. A REAL fox—sleek rust-colored fur, ears perked like it was listening to secrets. It stared right at me, gold eyes glinting like it knew something I didn't.

"Whoa," I breathed.

It didn't run. Just flicked its tail and vanished behind the garage. Like it wanted me to follow.

I shouldn't. I had zero business chasing wild animals at 2 AM when I was supposed to be studying for finals. But something pulled me forward—maybe the same thing that made me check Jordan's social media every three hours even though we hadn't spoken since October.

The fox led me to the old oak tree at the edge of our property. There was someone there.

I froze.

A figure crouched in the shadows, phone light illuminating something on the ground. My heart did that embarrassing flutter-panic thing. Was this what it felt like to be a spy? Both terrified and weirdly exhilarated?

"Nice fox whisperer skills," a voice whispered.

I nearly jumped out of my skin. "Mason?"

From my AP History class. Mason, who sat three rows back and never spoke. Mason, whose Instagram I'd low-key stalked after he posted that sunset photo from the hiking trail last month.

He stood up, grinning. In the moonlight, he looked different than at school. Softer. "She's been coming around for weeks. I named her Rusty."

"You... you named the fox?" I managed.

"Problem?" He raised an eyebrow. "What about you? Vitamin deficiency keeping you up too?"

He'd seen me. Not Jordan. Not the popular kids I was desperate to impress. Him.

"Something like that," I said, and for the first time in months, I didn't feel like performing. Just a girl in pajama pants, talking to a boy who named foxes, while the real world slept on without us.

The fox reappeared, sitting between us like she approved. Maybe she was the spy all along. Maybe she'd planned this.

Either way, I stopped checking Jordan's Instagram after that.