Strays Don't Lie

Maya's catTheory: animals can sense fake people. That's why Boots, her neighbor's tabby, hated her ex-bestfriend Brianna.

The drama had started sophomore year when Brianna suddenly became too cool for their Friday night Avatar marathons. Suddenly she was hanging with the popular crowd, leaving Maya on read for days, then hitting her up like nothing happened when she needed homework answers.

"That's such bull," Maya muttered, scrolling through Brianna's Instagram Stories—exactly the kind of performative angst she used to make fun of. Now she was posting sunset captions like "lost but finding myself" while tagging the same popular kids who'd once laughed at Maya's thrifted sweater.

Boots rubbed against Maya's shin, purring like a tiny motor. At least someone was loyal.

The next day at lunch, Brianna slid into the seat across from Maya like she hadn't been ghosting her for three weeks. "Hey! I've been meaning to text you. My phone's been weird."

Maya stared at her. Really? The phone excuse?

"That's bull, Brianna." The words came out before Maya could overthink them. "Your phone's fine. You posted literally five minutes ago."

Brianna's face fell. Then defensive mode kicked in. "Wow, okay. I didn't realize you were counting."

"I'm not. I'm just saying—don't lie about it. If you don't want to hang out anymore, just say that."

The silence stretched. Brianna's friends were watching from two tables over, probably wondering why their newest recruit was sitting with the loner.

Then Brianna's shoulders dropped. "You're right. I'm sorry. It's just..." She sighed. "They're not actually my friends. I thought being popular would fix everything, but I feel like I'm constantly performing."

Maya's anger softened. "Then why'd you ditch me?"

"Because I was scared. Scared they'd turn on me if they saw me with you. Which is so messed up, and I feel terrible about it." She actually looked like she might cry. "Can we... I don't know. Can I sit here? I miss real conversations."

Maya thought about Boots, how the cat always knew when to trust someone. Maybe animals weren't the only ones who could sense when people were being real.

"Yeah," she said. "But you're buying me tacos after school. That's non-negotiable."

Brianna actually smiled. "Deal."

Sometimes the fakest people become the realest friends—once someone finally calls bull on their bullshit.