The Art of Not Looking

Maya had mastered the art of the casual glance. At seventeen, she'd turned "spy" into an Olympic sport—scanning the cafeteria without making eye contact, checking her phone while actually watching the doorway, perfecting the I'm-totally-not-looking-at-you swivel.

Today's target: Leo, the new boy with hair that defied gravity and a smile that made her forget basic English.

She stood by the **water** fountain, pretending to be fascinated by hydration while Leo and his friends sat on the quad's grass. He peeled an **orange**, juice catching on his fingers, and Maya's stomach did that annoying flutter thing. His friend tossed him something weird and fuzzy—**papaya**, actually. Who brought papaya to school? Leo, apparently. He laughed, full-body, head thrown back, and Maya caught herself smiling at nothing.

"You're staring again," her best friend Chloe whispered, appearing beside her like a ghost. "It's getting creepy."

"I am not staring," Maya lied. "I'm... observing. For research."

"Research on what? How to be awkward from across the quad?"

Maya rolled her eyes, but her phone buzzed in her pocket. Unknown number. You with your friend by the water fountain? You look like you're plotting something.

Her heart stopped. Leo. Somehow, some way, he'd noticed her not-noticing him.

"Chloe," Maya whispered. "I think I've been made."

"Made?" Chloe frowned, then read the text over her shoulder. "Oh my god. He knows you exist! This is HUGE."

This was terrible. This was amazing. This was the most terrifying thing that had ever happened, and that included the time she'd walked into the wrong classroom and sat through twenty minutes of AP Chem before noticing.

Leo looked over. Caught her eyes. Waved with his papaya-sticky hand.

Maya's survival instincts activated immediately. She turned toward the water fountain like her life depended on it, leaned in, and pretended to drink.

"You're literally not getting any water," Chloe hissed.

"I'm hydrating spiritually," Maya said against the stream of water she wasn't actually consuming.

Her phone buzzed again. Smooth. You should come over. Unless you're busy pretending to drink water.

Maya straightened up, wiped her non-existent water mustache, and Chloe mouthed "DO IT" with theatrical enthusiasm.

So Maya did something brave. Something terrifying. She walked across the quad, toward Leo and his papaya and his impossible hair, toward whatever happened next.

Spy work officially over. Time to be seen.