Operation Green Stain

Maya's life officially became a disaster on Taco Tuesday, when a rogue chunk of **spinach** lodged itself in her front teeth right as Jake—the absolute finest sophomore at Franklin High—walked by her table. She'd spent three minutes doing that subtle tongue-sweep thing, hoping to dislodge the evidence without looking like she was aggressively making out with her own mouth. No luck. Jake kept walking. Maya died inside.

But the spinach incident was just the warm-up act for the real social suicide that went down fifth period. That's when she accidentally got drafted into the school's underground gossip network—or as Chloe and her squad called it, "being a **spy** for the greater good."

"It's simple," Chloe had explained, applying lip gloss with terrifying precision. "We need someone on the inside of the AV club setup crew for the spring dance. Find out what DJ playlist they're actually using. My cousin's boyfriend says they're playing absolute trash."

Maya, still reeling from the spinach tragedy and desperate to upgrade her social currency from "invisible" to "vaguely relevant," had agreed. Now she was crouched behind the auditorium curtains, watching the AV club president—a freshman named Darius—finalize the dance playlist. Her phone buzzed in her pocket. Chloe's message: "Intel needed ASAP queen. My reputation depends on this."

Darius started bobbing his head to whatever was playing through his headphones. Maya inched closer, straining to hear. The playlist wasn't trash at all. It was actually kinda... fire? This wasn't the information Chloe wanted.

"Hey, what are you doing back here?"

Maya jumped about three feet. Jake stood there, holding a microphone stand, looking unfairly gorgeous even under the harsh fluorescent lights.

"I—uh—"

"Spying on the playlist?" Jake raised an eyebrow. "Chloe put you up to this?"

Maya's face burned. This was it. The end of her social life before it even started. She might as well transfer schools. Maybe change her name. Move to another country.

"That's such **bull**," Jake said, but he was smiling. "Chloe's been trying to hijack the playlist since seventh grade. Darius actually knows what he's doing." He held out his hand. "I'm Jake, by the way. And you've got something in your teeth. Again."

Maya's soul left her body.

"Kidding." Jake's grin widened. "Mostly. You want the real intel? The playlist is solid, but if Chloe asks, tell her it's all ABBA and polka remixes. That'll keep her away from the soundboard."

Maya stared at him, then started laughing. The stressed-out, kind-of-hysterical laugh of someone who's survived two near-death social experiences in one day.

"Deal," she said.

And just like that, Maya went from spinach victim to double agent. Chloe could wait. Maya had bigger problems now—like figuring out how to have an actual conversation with Jake without saying something embarrassing. Or maybe that ship had already sailed. Either way, she was definitely going to start carrying dental floss.