The Deep End Surveillance

Marcus's iPhone 13 was supposed to be his secret weapon, not evidence.

"You're literally James Bond with better hair," Keisha had said when she hired him. Three Red Bulls and $40 later, Marcus was crouched behind the pool shed at Tyler's party, watching Sofia Tyler's ex through Instagram stories while simultaneously monitoring the actual pool area. Professional teenage spy work. Very cool. Very normal.

The mission: Confirm whether Sofia's boyfriend Devin was flirting with Hannah from AP Bio. Spoiler: he was. Double spoiler: Marcus's tax evasion analogy.

Marcus had been running this sideline operation since seventh grade. Need someone's class schedule? $10. Want to know if your crush likes your post? $15. Full background check on your sister's new boyfriend? $30 and you cover his Uber. It wasn't even about money anymore; it was the power. Information was currency at Northwood High, and Marcus was the mint.

Then his iPhone vibrated. Multiple notifications at once. Group chat chaos.

He fumbled it. Gravity did the rest.

The phone hit the pool surface with a tiny splash that sounded deafening in his ears. Marcus stared at the water rippling around his device, glowing screen flickering once, twice, then darkness.

No backup. No cloud sync turned on (he lived dangerously). Every conversation, every payment receipt, every embarrassing screenshot from his "clients"—gone. The evidence of his entire secret identity, drowning in three feet of chlorinated water.

"Marcus?"

He spun around. Sofia stood there, Hannah flanking her, both in swimsuits, both staring at him like he'd grown a second head. Then at the pool. Then back at him.

"Were you... spying?" Hannah asked.

The question hung in the humid evening air. Marcus opened his mouth, closed it. The water lapped against the pool edges rhythmically, like a countdown timer.

"Actually," he said, diving fully clothed into the water, "I was just testing my phone's waterproof case. It failed."

He surfaced, soaking wet, phone in hand, three girls watching him with varying expressions of confusion. Sofia's lips curved slightly upward.

"You're the worst spy ever," she said. "But thanks anyway. Devin's cheating. I figured it out myself."

She tossed him a towel. "Also, Keisha paid you $40? That girl bargain hunts at Goodwill. You got played."

Marcus wrapped the towel around his shoulders. His phone was dead. His cover was blown. His business model had been exposed as fraudulent by Keisha of all people. But as he watched Sofia and Hannah walk away, probably to toast to their freedom with fountain drinks, something in his chest loosened.

Maybe some things weren't meant to be surveilled. Maybe some moments were just supposed to happen.

He squeezed water out of his hoodie. Note to self: next career, choose something that didn't involve hiding behind pool sheds.

Also: definitely get waterproof cases.