Operation Catfish

Maya's thumb hovered over the follow button—again—for the third time this week. Being a digital spy wasn't in her junior year plans, but here she was, forty-two weeks deep into Jason's Instagram, analyzing whether his sunset posts were aesthetic or just accidentally good. Her phone vibrated with a new notification: *Story update from Jason.*

"You're still stalking that guy?" Bear leaned against her doorframe, arms crossed. Her brother's nickname had stuck since freshman year when he'd grown six inches and started crashing through drywall like a literal grizzly. "Just DM him already, or at least unlike the photo from last March. That's criminal evidence, Maya."

"Shut up, Bear." She minimized the tab. "Unlike you'd understand. You have zero game."

"I have plenty of game." He gestured to himself. "I'm practically dating Taylor. We're just... taking it slow."

"You sent her one meme and she left you on read for three weeks. That's not taking it slow, that's rejection with extra steps."

Bear shrugged. "Details. Anyway, Mom says dinner's ready. And Figaro knocked over your shrine."

Maya's heart stopped. "My what?"

"Your little—" Bear made air quotes "—'inspiration board' with all the screenshots and the weird color-coded notes about Jason's schedule? Yeah, your cat decided it was a personal challenge." He paused. "Also, pretty sure that qualifies as spy behavior. Serial killer energy, honestly."

"YOU TOLD MOM?!"

"No, but Figaro posted about it on his finsta."

Maya threw a pillow at him. He dodged, laughing, as her phone buzzed again. Another notification: *jason.reynolds started following you.*

"What?" Bear peeked at her screen. "No way."

"Wait, did he—was he—" Maya's face burned. "All those times I thought I was being slick, was he watching back?"

"Bro." Bear actually sounded impressed. "That's not spy vs spy anymore. That's... mutual stalking."

"It's not stalking if he followed me first!"

"You're literally six months deep in his posts. That's like, psychopath behavior." But Bear was grinning. "So... you gonna reply to his DM?"

"HE DM'd ME?!"

"Maya." Bear sighed, all big brother energy. "You need to calm down. Also Figaro's sitting on your keyboard and I'm pretty sure he just sent something."

Maya looked at her phone. A message was already sent: *sup*

"That was one letter," she whispered. "He replied.*hey*

Bear nodded sagely. "And just like that, my little sister's game leveled up. You're welcome."

"You're literally the worst."

"Love you too." Bear headed for the stairs. "Also, I'm taking credit at your wedding. Figaro too."

Maya flopped backward onto her bed, heart racing. Figaro jumped onto her stomach, purring like he'd planned everything. She scratched behind his ears, already typing back, her spy days officially over.