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Maya's thumb hovered over the post button. Her profile pic—that perfectly filtered shot where her hair cascaded like she'd just stepped out of a salon instead of her messy bathroom—was about to go live. Again.

"You're gonna post ANOTHER selfie?" Jay, leaning against her locker, practically snorted. "Third time this week, fam. That's gotta be some kind of desperate record."

"Shut up, Jay. It's called a glow-up, ever heard of it?" Maya snapped, though her stomach did that familiar flip thing. He wasn't wrong. She HAD been posting a lot lately. Ever since finding out that Alex—actual Alex, junior Alex, Alex whose smile could turn her brain into static—had been watching her stories. Not just watching, but watching them the second they dropped. Every. Single. Time.

It made her feel like a spy, honestly. Like she was conducting surveillance on her own crush while he was lowkey surveilling her back. The mutual obsession was equal parts thrilling and absolutely cooked. What was he looking for? What did he see when he watched her carefully curated life?

At home, her cat Luna wound around her ankles, purring like a tiny motor, while her brother's dog Buster stared at her with those judgy eyes. Pets always knew when you were being extra.

"You're doing that thing again," her mom said from the kitchen doorway. "That whole lightning-quick mood shift where you're anxious for two seconds, then plotting something, then back to anxious. Spill it."

Maya groaned. "Mom, stop reading me like a highlighted textbook."

"Honey, you wear your emotions like a hat that's two sizes too small. Everyone can see them." Her mom's voice softened. "Who's the boy?"

"There's no boy!" But her cheeks burned anyway.

That night, Maya lay in bed, phone illuminating her face. Alex had viewed her new profile pic within three minutes. He'd also liked it. The little notification heart sat there, mocking her with its simplicity. What did it mean? Was it just a friendly like? A 'nice pic' like? Or an 'I see you, I really see you' like?

She typed out a message: "hey, thanks for the like 😊"

Deleted it.

Typed: "saw you watching my story lol"

Deleted that too.

Then: "hey!"

Send.

Immediately, she wanted to throw her phone across the room. This was it. The cringe moment to end all cringe moments. She'd just slid into his DMs with the most basic greeting imaginable. Gen Z was supposed to be smooth, cool, effortless. She was failing on all counts.

Three dots appeared.

Maya stopped breathing.

"hey!!"

Two exclamation points. That was good, right? Or was it just him being friendly?

"been meaning to msg you," Alex continued. "your photography is actually insane. those sunset pics from last week?"

Maya stared at her ceiling fan, spinning like her thoughts. He noticed her photography? Not just her face, not just her curated selfies, but the actual art she poured herself into?

"thanks," she typed back, fingers suddenly steady. "that means a lot."

"maybe we could shoot together sometime? i've been wanting to get into film photography"

Maya pressed her phone to her chest, grinning like an absolute loser. Luna hopped onto her bed, head-butting her chin like she knew exactly what had just happened.

Maybe the spy game wasn't so bad after all. Sometimes, when you let yourself be seen, you actually get seen.