Operation Papaya Sunset

Maya pressed her back against the rough bark of the palm tree, her heart pounding like she'd just finished a 5K. Three feet away, Jason—the cute junior who'd barely acknowledged her existence all semester—was leaning against the snack bar counter, laughing at something Jenna said.

"You're literally doing this," Maya whispered to herself, clutching the papaya smoothie she'd spent twenty minutes psyching herself up to buy. Just walk over there. Say something normal. Not weird. Definitely not 'I memorized your class schedule accidentally because it's posted right outside Mr. Harrison's room.'

Her phone buzzed. Unknown number. Again.

Third time this week. Each time: 'I see what you did.' Nothing else. No emoji, no follow-up, just cryptic nonsense that made her feel like she was trapped in some low-budget thriller movie. Her best friend Sam swore it was just a bot, but Maya's anxiety-brain had other theories.

What if someone was actually watching her? What if she had a secret spy? Not the cool, James Bond kind, but the creepy, knows-way-too-much-about-you kind.

At home, her pet goldfish Bubbles floated near the glass of his bowl, swimming his usual lazy circles. The poor guy didn't even know she was currently spiraling. He just wanted his flakes and occasional tank cleaning. Meanwhile, Maya was drafting escape routes in case her stalker turned out to be real.

"Maya?"

She nearly dropped her smoothie. Jason was standing right there. His eyes were crinkled in that way that made her stomach do backflips.

"Oh, hey!" Smooth, Maya. So smooth. "What's up?"

"I wanted to ask you something." He rubbed the back of his neck—was he nervous? That made zero sense. "Are you going to Emma's party on Saturday?"

The party everyone was talking about. The party she wasn't sure she was invited to until literally this second.

"Probably?" Maya tried to sound casual instead of like someone who'd been obsessively checking Instagram for details about said party for three days straight.

"Cool." Jason grinned. "Save me a dance?"

As he walked away, Maya slid down against the palm tree, her legs turning to jelly. Her phone buzzed again.

Unknown number: 'That went well. ;)'