Orange Sunset at Miller's Beach

Maya's golden retriever, Buster, was supposed to be her emotional support animal, but right now he was basically a traitor. He'd already dragged her toward the bonfire three times, tail wagging like he owned Miller's Beach, while Maya desperately tried to melt into the shadows.

"Buster, no," she hissed, yanking the leash as he made a beeline for the cool kids' circle. This was supposed to be recon work only—spy mission, observe and report. That's what she'd told herself when she'd agreed to come. Just check out Jake's party, maybe figure out why everyone at school treated him like he was some kind of celebrity.

The bonfire crackled, sending sparks toward the palm trees that dotted the shoreline. Maya pressed herself against a rough-barked trunk, heart pounding. She'd been crushing on Jake since freshman year, watching from the safety of her phone screen as he posted perfectly aesthetic sunset photos with captions like "living in the moment."

Buster whined and nudged her hand with his wet nose. Maya sighed and scratched behind his ears. At least someone was happy to see her. The party was loud—someone had a speaker blasting that song everyone was obsessed with, and there was so much laughter Maya felt like she was watching from behind glass.

"Hey!"

Maya jumped. Jake was walking over, solo, holding something orange—a soda can? No, one of those fancy sparkling waters that came in flavors like "tangerine dream." He wore a faded orange hoodie that matched perfectly, and for a second Maya wondered if he'd planned this.

"Your dog cool?" Jake asked. "Sarah's terrified of dogs, but he looks chill."

"Yeah, he's... he's good," Maya managed. Why was her voice so weird?

Jake grinned and knelt down, letting Buster lick his face like they were best friends. "What's his name?"

"Buster."

"Solid name." Jake looked up, palm tree shadows dancing across his face. "You're Maya, right? From English?"

Maya nodded, stunned. He knew her name?

"I've been meaning to ask," Jake said, standing up and brushing sand from his knees. "You wrote that essay about identity and social media? The one Mr. Henderson read aloud? That was actually fire."

The rest of the night blurred into something unexpected. Jake introduced her to people (who actually seemed normal?), Buster became the unofficial party mascot, and Maya forgot she was supposed to be spy-camming from the sidelines.

Later, watching the orange sun dip below the horizon, palm fronds silhouetted against a purple sky, Maya realized something: sometimes the best moments happen when you're not hiding behind a tree, but when your dog drags you exactly where you need to be.