Social Media Stalking Operation

Maya's thumb hovered over the screen as she became the ultimate spy, stalking her crush Jake's Instagram for the third time that night. Her roommate Tia rolled her eyes from the top bunk. "Dude, you're gonna give yourself carpal tunnel. Jake posted a story three hours ago. It's not gonna change."

"You don't understand," Maya whispered, her curly hair frizzing around her face like a halo of exhaustion. "I need to know if he's at Tyler's party. If I don't show up and he's there looking all cute with that new haircut—"

"Your hair looks fine, Maya. You've been straightening it for two hours. It's literally perfect."

Maya groaned and let her phone drop onto her chest. She felt like a zombie, surviving on caffeine and anxiety during finals week. Why did being a teenager have to be so exhausting? Between AP Chem, her mom pestering her about colleges, and the absolute torture of having a crush on someone who probably saw her as "that quiet girl in English," she was running on fumes.

Her phone buzzed. A new story from Jake. Maya sat up so fast she nearly fell off the bed.

"Well?" Tia asked.

"He's at the party," Maya said, her stomach doing that stupid fluttery thing. "And he's wearing that green hoodie I like."

"So GO," Tia said, throwing a pillow at her. "I promise your hair won't spontaneously combust in the next twenty minutes."

Maya stood up and caught her reflection in the mirror. Her hair actually did look pretty good. She grabbed her jacket and headed for the door, her spy mission complete. Tonight, she wouldn't just be watching from the sidelines like some zombie observer of her own life. Tonight, she'd actually talk to him.

Probably. If her nerves didn't completely bail first.