Poolside Protocol

I'd been **running** recon on Maya for three weeks straight. Not in a creepy way—just, you know, strategic intelligence gathering. She hung out at the community **pool** every Tuesday and Thursday with her squad, and I'd strategically position myself on the far side with my friends, occasionally glancing over like a covert operative.

That Thursday, everything went sideways.

Maya wore this **orange** bikini that practically glowed under the July sun, making my stomach do full-on gymnastics. I was mid-conversation with Tyler about something meaningless when her brother Javi— varsity **baseball** star, towering at six-two—started walking my direction.

My brain: Abort mission. Abort mission.

My mouth: Hey, Javi. What's up, man?

He stopped at my chair. My friends went dead silent. This was it. He knew. He knew I was basically a **spy** watching his sister from across the pool like some weirdo with zero chill.

You're the cross country kid, right? Javi asked.

Uh, yeah. That's me. The cross country kid.

Maya thinks you're cute. His face stayed straight. Just so you know.

Then he walked away. Just like that.

The boys absolutely lost it. Tyler was cackling so hard he fell off his chair. Maya's brother had just done a tactical airstrike on my entire social existence, and somehow I was supposed to play it cool?

Then it got worse.

I stood up to—do something, anything—and my foot caught on the chair leg. I went down hard, right into the puddle where Tyler had spilled his grape soda ten minutes earlier. My white shirt turned purple. My dignity evaporated.

Across the pool, Maya looked over.

She wasn't laughing.

She was watching me with this weird expression, and then—get this—she started walking over. My heart hammered against my ribs like it was trying to escape my chest and run for the hills.

Hey, she said, extending a hand. You okay?

Her palm was soft. Her fingernails had this tiny orange flower pattern on them.

Yeah, I said, my voice cracking like I was still twelve. Just. You know. Gravity's acceleration and stuff.

She laughed. It sounded like wind chimes or whatever cliché thing people say but it's actually TRUE.

You want some help getting cleaned up? she asked.

I looked at my friends. Tyler gave me a thumbs-up. The other guys nodded like this was all part of some master plan.

Sure, I said.

As we walked toward the snack bar, I caught Javi's eye across the pool. He didn't smile, but he gave this tiny nod. Tactical approval.

Operation: Don't Be Weird was officially compromised. But somehow, against all odds, Mission: Talk to Maya was a go.