Sphinx's Secret Mission

The cable guy was supposed to be our cover. That was the plan, anyway. Me, hiding behind the couch while my neighbor Emma practiced her baseball swing in her backyard. But Sphinx—my grandma's weirdly judgmental cat—had other ideas.

"Dude, you're being creepy," Jordan said, munching chips beside me. We were supposed to be gaming, not spying. But I'd been crushing on Emma since seventh grade, and Jordan had discovered that her backyard was visible from my grandma's window if you angled it right.

Sphinx leaped onto the cable box, staring at me like I'd personally failed at life. The cat knew something was off.

"I'm just observing," I muttered. "Research."

"You're literally a spy now," Jordan laughed. "This is stalker behavior."

Emma's baseball connected with something—probably her brother's annoying arm that kept stealing her stuff. I'd seen them arguing all week. She was mad, beautiful when she was mad, and I was a coward who couldn't just say hey.

Then Sphinx knocked over the cable box. The screen went black.

"Great," I groaned. "Now we can't even game."

But then I saw something through the window—Emma looking straight at our house, waving. At me.

"She saw you," Jordan said, horrified. "She definitely saw you spying like a total weirdo."

My face burned. I was dead. Social suicide.

But then Sphinx hopped onto the windowsill, meowing loudly. Emma laughed and waved at the cat.

"Your cat is so weird!" she called across the fence.

"He's not mine," I yelled back, embarrassed. "My grandma's."

"Cool," she said. "You coming to the game Friday?"

"What?"

"Baseball," she said, like it was obvious. "I saw you watching. Thought you might like to actually see it from the field."

Jordan's jaw dropped. Sphinx purred, smug as hell.

"Yeah," I said, my voice cracking. "Yeah, I'll be there."

Later, Jordan punched my shoulder. "Your cat's a genius."

Sphinx just blinked, like he'd planned it all along.