Storm Watch

Maya felt like everyone was watching her as she walked down the hallway. It was that weird paranoia you get when you know you don't fit in — like being a spy in enemy territory, except you're not even cool enough to be a real spy. Just awkward sophomore energy.

She'd started wearing her hair differently that week, trying to look more like the girls who got invited to parties instead of the ones who stayed home watching Netflix with their dogs.

Which was exactly where she was supposed to be right now: home with Barnaby, her golden retriever and basically the only living thing who didn't make her feel like a total loser.

The storm started right as she reached her front porch — proper dramatic timing. Lightning cracked the sky in half, and then her phone buzzed.

"Uh, why is someone standing in your driveway?" texted her best friend Priya.

Maya frowned. Through the rain, she could barely make out a figure standing near the mailbox. Not moving. Just standing there.

Her heart did that thing where it forgot how to beat normally. Because seriously? This was actual stalker behavior. She considered calling her mom, or the police, or just locking herself in the bathroom with Barnaby and her phone.

Another lightning flash illuminated the driveway.

It was Jake from her history class. Holding something. A camera?

Her phone buzzed again.

"Caught me spying lol."

Maya stared at the message, then back at Jake, who was now waving awkwardly.

"Come here!" she yelled through the screen door.

Jake sprinted through the rain, arriving completely soaked but somehow still looking annoyingly good.

"I was doing this photo assignment for newspaper," he explained, wiping rain from his eyes. "Storms? And I saw your light on and I thought it'd be artsy to—"

"Spy on me?" she deadpanned.

"Document your neighborhood's atmospheric conditions!" he protested. "But also, I was going to come up anyway."

"To photograph my house?"

"To give you back your history notes, Maya. You left them in class again."

Barnaby chose that moment to trot over and thoroughly investigate Jake's shoes, then sat on his foot like he owned it.

"Oh," Maya said. "That's... actually really nice."

"Yeah, well." Jake shrugged. "Also your dog seems to like me."

They ended up talking until 3 AM while the storm raged outside. About nothing and everything. About how weird it was being sixteen and feeling like everyone was watching but no one was actually seeing you.

Barnaby fell asleep with his head on Jake's knee.

"So," Jake said, when the conversation lulled. "Can I take the picture now?"

"Of what?"

"You know. The whole atmospheric artsy thing."

"Sure," Maya said, and she didn't even care that she wasn't wearing any makeup. "But only if I get one of you too. For evidence. In case you're actually a creep."

Jake laughed. "Deal."

The next week, their photos ran side by side in the school paper. Two lightning-lit figures, caught in the same moment, pretending not to watch each other.

Priya texted her the morning it came out: "Wow. Who knew being stalked could be so cute?"

Maya just smiled and showed Barnaby, who was already waiting by the window at 4 PM, like he knew something Jake didn't.

Some dogs, it turned out, were better at reading people than any spy.