The Bleacher Spy

My hair was a disaster. Mom's friend, who's supposedly a stylist, turned my curls into a puffy triangle. I spent forty-five minutes with a beanie smashed on my head before giving up and grabbing my cap. Bad hair day, meet worse hair life.

I'd come to the baseball game to watch Jordan play center field — okay, to spy on Jordan — from the relative safety of the bleachers. We'd had math together since September, and I still hadn't worked up the nerve to say anything beyond "here's the homework." My friends said I was being ridiculous, but what did they know? They weren't the ones with a stomach that performed gymnastics every time Jordan so much as glanced in their direction.

"Nice view?" said Riley, sliding onto the bench beside me with a smirk.

"I'm just here for the game," I lied, shoving a spinach wrap from my backpack into my mouth to hide my face.

Riley raised an eyebrow. "Sure. That's why you're wearing sunglasses. At 7 PM."

I flipped them off, which only made them cackle. Then something warm and fuzzy brushed against my leg.

My cat, Luna, wound around my ankles like she owned the place. She must've slipped out when I left for the game — Mom was going to kill me.

"Since when do they allow pets?" Riley asked, reaching down to scratch Luna's ears.

Luna purred like a motor, then bolted toward the field.

"No, Luna, wait!" I hissed, scrambling after her.

She made it all the way to the dugout before the umpire noticed. Jordan, who'd been heading back to the bench after striking out, stopped and stared. Then their face cracked into a grin as Luna rolled onto her back, demanding attention.

"Is she yours?" Jordan called, scooping up my traitorous cat.

I wanted the earth to swallow me whole. "Yeah. Sorry. She's kind of an escape artist."

"She's perfect." Jordan scratched Luna's chin, then looked at me. Really looked at me. "Hey, aren't you in my AP Calc class? You sit by the window."

My stomach flipped. "Yeah. That's me."

"Cool." Jordan grinned, and for once, I forgot about my stupid hair. "Hey, you've got a little..." They gestured to their own teeth.

Spinach. Of course.

I wiped my mouth while Jordan handed Luna back, their fingers brushing mine for a second that felt like an hour.

"See you Monday," Jordan said, heading back to the dugout.

Riley found me in the parking lot afterward, still grinning like an idiot. "So, about that 'just here for the game' line?"