The Art of Being Seen

Maya's palms were sweating — like, actually dripping onto her phone case as she crouched behind the bleachers. This was it. Operation Spy on Lucas During Baseball Practice was officially a go.

"You're being creepy," Zoe whispered from beside her. "Like, actual stalker vibes."

"I'm not stalking! I'm conducting research." Maya adjusted her stance. "There's a difference."

"Is there?"

Maya ignored her. Lucas was at home plate, swinging the bat with that effortless grace that made everyone's stomach do that weird fluttery thing. The baseball cracked against his bat, sailing into the outfield. Of course. He was perfect, and Maya was just... there.

The social pyramid at Creekwood High was ruthless. Lucas sat comfortably at the top — varsity sports, effortless charm, probably had good hair days every single day. Maya existed somewhere in the middle with the rest of the "normal" people, floating between friend groups and never quite landing.

"He's looking this way," Zoe hissed. "Abort mission!"

Maya spun around too fast, tripping over her own converse. The sound was spectacularly uncool. Behind her, someone laughed.

"You know," Lucas's voice came from way too close, "for a spy, you're not exactly stealth."

Maya turned, face burning. Lucas stood there in his uniform, glove tucked under his arm, grinning. Up close, he had a tiny freckle right above his left ear.

"I wasn't —" she started.

"Spying? Definitely not." His grin widened. "So what's the mission?"

Maya's brain short-circuited. "Research?"

"For what?"

"Project."

"What project?"

"Science."

Zoe was full-on cackling now.

Lucas laughed too, but it wasn't mean. "Cool. Well, you should know you have spinach in your teeth."

The world ended. Right there. Behind the Creekwood High bleachers, while the baseball team packed up their gear, Maya's social life flashed before her eyes.

"Oh my god." She covered her mouth with her palm. "Since when?"

"Since you've been spying on me for the past twenty minutes." He adjusted his bag on his shoulder. "I was gonna tell you, but it was kind of adorable."

Wait. adorable?

"So," Lucas said, already walking backward toward the parking lot, "same time tomorrow for more 'research'? Or are we done stalking me for today?"

Maya stood there, spinach and all, and something in her chest did that fluttery thing again. But this time, it wasn't just because he was perfect. It was because he'd noticed her. Not the version of her she tried to curate online or the one she pretended to be in class.

Just her. Spinach and all.

"Maybe," she called back, grinning despite herself. "Depends on the data."