Running With Wolves

Maya's fingers flew across her phone screen at 2:47 AM, eyes burning, heart racing. She wasn't texting. She was hunting.

Three weeks ago, someone created a fake Instagram account using her photos—the ones from her locked private account. The profile: @maya_real__life, posting captions she'd never write, living a life she'd never live. She felt like a **spy** in her own life, watching this doppelgänger gain followers by twisting her identity into something shiny and fake.

"You seriously think someone catfished... you?" Jordan had asked when she told him at lunch. He'd laughed, that dismissive chuckle that made her want to scream. "That's such **bull**, Maya. You're not that interesting."

The cafeteria went weirdly quiet. Jordan's girlfriend Chloe snorted into her pasta.

Maya's face burned. She'd run to the bathroom, lock herself in a stall, and cry until the bell rang. This was her life now: people treating her like a joke, her own identity stolen and weaponized against her.

But tonight, she'd found something. A comment thread on the fake profile's second post. Someone asking: "wait didn't you post this story before??" And the faker's reply: "lol yeah my account got hacked"

Maya's breath caught. The faker was covering their tracks.

Her **dog**, Buster, nudged her hand with his wet nose, whining softly. She'd rescued him from a shelter last year—a mangy stray with trust issues, just like her. He was the only one who didn't make her feel like she was too much or not enough.

"I know, buddy," she whispered, scratching behind his ears. "Almost there."

Back to the thread. A comment from @lexi_p98: "omg girl same thing happened to me last semester!!"

Lexi P. Lexi Parker. The girl who'd transferred in October and sat behind her in history. The girl with the perfect Instagram aesthetic, the expensive clothes, the easy laugh.

The girl Maya had caught watching her once in class, then looking away.

**Running** on instinct now, Maya clicked through to Lexi's profile. Scrolled back to September. Post after post of Lexi's life—until October 12th. Then nothing. A month of radio silence. Then new posts in November, but different. Less polished. More... desperate?

Maya's hands shook as she opened a new tab and searched "Lexi Parker fake account."

Reddit thread from three months ago. Someone posting about their photos being stolen, their identity twisted, everyone laughing at them like it was no big deal. The username: lexi_p98.

The realization hit her like a physical blow.

They'd both been stolen from.

The DM felt surreal to type: "I think someone's doing the same thing to me."

The response came instantly: "I know. I've been watching them do it to you too."

They met at the park behind school at dawn. Two girls with matching dark circles under their eyes, holding their phones like evidence, like weapons, like the only things that could prove they weren't crazy.

"How long?" Maya asked.

"Since September," Lexi said quietly. "They've been targeting different people each month. I tried to warn you, but..."

"You thought they'd come after you again."

Lexi nodded. "I was scared."

"Me too."

They sat in silence for a moment. Then Lexi held out her phone. "I have screenshots of everything. Dates, times, patterns. I was going to take it to the principal but—"

"But nobody takes this stuff seriously."

"Exactly." Lexi's expression hardened. "Unless we have proof. Real proof."

They spent the next hour planning like commandos. Setting traps. Creating bait. Collecting evidence. By the time the sun rose, they weren't just victims anymore.

They were a team.

"Buster," Maya called, and her dog trotted over, tail wagging. She rubbed his head, feeling something light and hopeful blooming in her chest for the first time in weeks. "We're gonna fix this."

They caught them by Friday.

It wasn't some dramatic showdown. Just Maya and Lexi walking into the principal's office with a USB drive containing everything: IP addresses, timestamps, screenshots of the culprit planning their next target. A freshman named Tyler who'd thought it was all just a funny game.

The look on his face when they showed him the evidence? Worth every sleepless night.

After school, Maya sat on her front porch with Lexi and Buster, watching the sunset paint the sky pink and gold.

"So," Lexi said, cracking open a soda. "You run track, right?"

"Yeah. Why?"

"Because we're literally going to need to outrun Jordan once he finds out we outsmarted his best friend."

Maya laughed—really laughed—for the first time in a month.

"Let him run," she said, and meant it.