Poolside Surveillance

I was basically a professional spy at this point. Okay, not a REAL spy with, like, gadgets and a cool car, but I'd been watching Tyler's Instagram stories for three months straight without him ever knowing I existed. That counts, right?

The neighborhood pool party was my moment. My chance to stop being background character energy and actually become part of the main character's plot. Except I was sitting alone by the deep end, fully clothed while everyone else was in their swimsuits, looking like I was conducting a stakeout instead of, you know, socializing.

"You look like you're plotting something."

I jumped. Maya—Tyler's ex, Maya who'd graduated early and was supposedly away at college—was dripping wet beside me, hair slicked back like a sleek cat that owned the place.

"I'm not plotting," I lied. "I'm... observing. For sociological purposes."

She laughed, and it sounded exactly like it did in the livestreams I'd definitely-not-stalkerishly watched. "You're a terrible spy. I've been watching you watch Tyler for twenty minutes."

My face burned. Like, ACTUAL flames.

"It's not like that," I mumbled. "I just... I don't know how to talk to people. I'm not good at this whole high school social battlefield thing."

Maya's expression softened. She pointed at Tyler, who was doing a cannonball contest with his friends. "He's not that deep, honestly. We dated for, like, two months before I realized he still thinks 'the dog ate my homework' is a valid excuse."

Something about the way she said it—so unbothered, so over it—made my chest feel lighter.

"You think you're not good at people?" she asked. "You noticed I was watching you. That's pretty observant for a 'terrible spy.'"

We sat there for an hour, her answering my stupid questions about college, me finally admitting that I wanted to join theater but was scared of humiliating myself. The cat that lived by the pool's equipment room kept weaving around our chairs like it was part of the conversation.

When Tyler finally noticed me and waved, Maya stood up and pushed me toward the pool.

"Go."

"What? No, I'm not—"

"You're not gonna learn to swim if you don't get wet," she said. "Metaphorically. And literally, because you're fully clothed and it's ninety degrees."

I didn't become best friends with Tyler that day. I didn't suddenly become cool. But I joined drama club the next week, and sometimes Maya still texts me asking for updates on my "spy training."

And yeah, I still overthink everything. But at least I'm not just watching from the sidelines anymore.