Sleepless at Seventeen

Maya felt like a **zombie** as she dragged herself into third period English. Three hours of scrolling through Jake's Instagram at 2 AM will do that to you. Her best friend Priya called it 'reconnaissance'—basically, acting like a total **spy** to figure out if Jake maybe-possibly-could like her back.

"You're staring again," Priya whispered from the desk behind her. "Creepy vibes. Scale it back."

Maya's face burned. Jake was two rows ahead, hoodie slightly ripped at the collar. She'd analyzed twelve photos of him in various stages of athletic achievement. The detective work had revealed nothing except that he liked weird memes and had a golden retriever.

The real problem wasn't Jake, though. It was the emotional **bear** she'd been carrying around since November—when her parents announced they were splitting up, and suddenly everything felt heavy and wrong and like she was performing normalcy for an audience that didn't know the script.

"Mr. Harrison's looking," Priya warned.

Maya flipped her notebook open to a blank page. Fake notes. Fake attention. Fake everything.

Jake turned around. Actually turned around, caught her eye, and half-smiled.

Her heart did that embarrassing flutter thing. She mentally scrolled through her spy dossier: Jake liked vintage video games, had once dyed his hair blue for homecoming, and according to Maya's thorough Instagram investigation, had posted exactly three photos of a sunset labeled "processing stuff."

Maybe he was carrying a bear too.

After class, Jake actually waited for her by the door.

"Hey," he said. "You look tired."

So smooth. Maya wanted to dissolve.

"Zombie mode," she admitted. "Studying."

"Cool." He shifted his weight. "I'm, uh, going to this arcade thing downtown Friday. With friends. You should come."

Her brain stopped processing. "Is this... are you..."

"I'm inviting you," he said, and she could've sworn he was nervous too. "Unless that's weird. Then pretend I said something cool about the English homework."

Maya laughed—actually laughed, the first real laugh in months. The bear on her shoulders felt suddenly lighter.

"I'll be there," she said.

Jake nodded and walked away, and Priya appeared beside her like she'd been monitoring the whole operation.

"Spy work successful," Priya said. "Now we just have to survive Friday."

Maya's phone buzzed. Her mom. She almost didn't check it—almost let herself stay in this moment—but then she did. "Love you. Don't forget dinner."

Some bears you carry. Some you learn to put down. And some days, you get asked to an arcade by a boy with a sunset in his bio.