Operation Orange Crush

Maya's heart did that thing where it felt like a trapped bird, which was ridiculous because she was literally just sitting in her bedroom like a total creep, spying on Tyler's Instagram story through a crack in her curtains. The orange light of sunset spilled across her floorboards, making everything look like the end of the world or maybe just the end of eighth grade.

"You're being a total stalker," her little brother Leo announced from the doorway, holding juice box like it was evidence.

"I'm gathering intel," Maya shot back, but her voice cracked. "It's called recon."

"It's called obsession." He rolled his eyes so hard she was surprised they didn't get stuck. "Also, Tyler posted that story three hours ago. You're behind on your stalking game."

Maya threw a pillow at him. He dodged like he'd been practicing.

Friday's football game was going to be a disaster. She'd have to bear witness to Tyler and Ashley being couple goals while Maya sat in the bleachers wearing that orange sweatshirt she'd bought online that looked completely different in person—like traffic cone orange instead of cute sunset orange. Her friends had already roasted her for it twice.

Then came third period.

Maya was walking to her locker when she saw Tyler. He was talking to Jason near the science wing, and she ducked behind a row of lockers like she was some kind of amateur spy. Jason said something that made Tyler's face change—like, actually change. And then Tyler said something back that made Jason go quiet.

A moment of lightning clarity struck Maya so hard she almost dropped her phone.

Tyler wasn't looking at Ashley in the cafeteria anymore. He was looking *past* her. At Maya.

"No freaking way," she whispered.

The bull inside her head—the one that had been telling her she wasn't pretty enough, wasn't interesting enough, wasn't *enough*—suddenly stopped charging. Just like that.

At the game that night, Maya sat in her terrible orange sweatshirt, knees pulled to her chest, trying to look chill and failing. Tyler scored a touchdown. Everyone screamed. And then, in the chaos of celebration, he looked up. Right at her.

He didn't wave. He didn't smile. He just looked, holding her gaze for like three full seconds before turning back to his team.

But that was enough.

Maya's heart wasn't a trapped bird anymore. It was wings.