Papara Confidential

Maya pressed her back against the bathroom wall, heart doing that stupid flutter thing it always did when HE was near. Through the cracked door, she could hear the party getting louder — bass thumping, people laughing like they'd known each other forever instead of just since September.

She'd been spying on Jake Torres since seventh grade, which was pathetic and she knew it. But tonight felt different. Tonight, she'd actually talked to him.

"Your palms are sweating," he'd said, catching her hand before she could pull away. "Nervous?"

She'd wanted to die. But then he'd smiled, and her brain had short-circuited, and suddenly they were in the bathroom together and he was looking at her like she was actually worth noticing.

"My abuela makes this papaya shake," he said, leaning closer. "She swears it's an aphrodisiac. Want to try it?"

Maya almost laughed. Aphrodisiac? Really? But Jake's eyes were serious, and suddenly this felt like something huge, something that could change everything.

"That's such bull," she said instead, channeling her older sister's confidence. "You're just trying to get me drunk on fruit smoothie."

Jake grinned. "You caught me, spy girl. I've seen you watching me in homeroom."

Her face burned. He'd NOTICED?

"I wasn't—"

"It's okay." He took her hand again, palm against palm, and her skin did that electric thing it always did around him. "I was spying too."

The bathroom door burst open. Someone yelled about something burning in the kitchen. But Maya didn't care. Jake was still holding her hand, and he was smiling like she was the only person in the world worth spying on.

"Next Friday," he said. "My house. Real papaya this time. No spying necessary."

Maya walked out of that bathroom with sweaty palms and racing heart and the strangest feeling that her life was about to get a whole lot more complicated.

She couldn't wait.