Poolside Recon Mission

I was on a serious **spy** mission. Well, as serious as it gets when you're fifteen and your entire espionage career consists of lurking by the apartment complex **pool** with sunglasses that are definitely too big for your face.

My target: Jasmine from 4B. The same Jasmine who'd barely acknowledged my existence since sixth grade, when she decided I wasn't worth her time after I accidentally called her "Jay-miss" in front of everyone.

The **pool** area was prime recon territory. I'd strategically positioned myself on a lounge chair, pretending to be deeply invested in my phone while actually monitoring her movements through the tiny gaps in my shades. She was there with Tyler—of course. The guy was basically a **bull** in human form, all broad shoulders and that effortless confidence that makes regular people feel like they're fundamentally doing something wrong with their lives.

"You're being weird again," came a voice from behind me.

I jumped. My cousin Marcus stood there, holding a bowl of fruit and looking judgmental.

"I'm not being weird. I'm... observing."

"You're watching Jasmine and Tyler through sunglasses that you're wearing indoors. And also, it's cloudy outside."

"The UV rays still penetrate clouds, Marcus. It's basic science." I adjusted my shades for maximum coolness. "Anyway, Tyler's basically a **bull**. Have you seen how he walks? It's like he owns the pavement."

Marcus sat down and started peeling an orange. "You know, your mom told me to make sure you're taking your **vitamin** D supplements. Since you're inside all day being 'observant'."

"I get plenty of sun."

"You're fifteen, and you have the posture of a retiree." He tossed me a gummy vitamin from his bag. "Take it. And stop calling Tyler a bull. He's actually decent." Marcus paused, his face lighting up with that expression he gets right before he shares information he knows I'll obsess over. "Besides, I heard something interesting."

My heart did that thing where it forgets how to rhythm properly. "What kind of interesting?"

"Let's just say someone left their **cable** bill on the mail table, and certain HBO watch histories suggest someone's been bingeing literally every show you've recommended to everyone since seventh year." Marcus wiggled his eyebrows. "The very same shows you ranted about at Thanksgiving while everyone was literally asleep."

I stared at him. Then at Jasmine. Then back at him. "Wait—are you saying—"

"I'm saying that your recon mission might be unnecessary." Marcus stood up. "Also, she broke up with Tyler yesterday. Something about him not getting her references. Shocking, I know."

I looked over at the pool area. Jasmine was alone now, sitting on the edge with her feet in the water. She pulled out her phone, and I could practically see the lock screen from here—might have been that fantasy show with the dragons I'd been obsessively recommending for months.

Marcus tossed a gummy **vitamin** at me. "Take your vitamin and go talk to her. Or don't. But stop staring through those ridiculous sunglasses."

I took a deep breath, stood up, and walked toward the pool. Behind me, I heard Marcus mutter, "Good luck, 007."