The Fedora Protocol

The thing about being the invisible girl is nobody notices when you're literally two feet away, staring. Which is how I ended up behind the gym bleachers during sixth period, spy mission vibes at maximum capacity.

Chloe had talked me into this whole stalking thing like it was a legit operation. "We need intel," she'd whispered in AP Bio, sliding me a crumpled note. Isabella was supposedly hooking up with Tyler at lunch, and we needed receipts. As if. Tyler had been practically running away from Isabella since homecoming.

My phone buzzed. Chloe: Status report.

Me: Clear. Target is eating yogurt.

Chloe: We're doing this for feminism.

Me: We're doing this because you're bored.

Then I saw it — Tyler's baseball hat, resting on the bleacher beside him. He never took it off. Like, ever. It was basically his personality at this point. But there it was, revealing hair that was definitely not at home on his head.

Isabella leaned in.

This was it. The moment. I fumbled for my phone, ready to capture the evidence that would destabilize the entire social pyramid.

"So," Isabella said, "my cousin's doing this thing. It's like, a multi-level marketing vibe but for NFTs. He's already made three grand."

My jaw dropped.

"I'm listening," Tyler said.

"It's a pyramid scheme," I said, then realized I'd said it out loud.

They both turned.

Time to deploy emergency measures. I bolted, running toward the back exit like I was being chased by the FBI.

"Wait!" Isabella called. "You know about crypto?"

I froze. The water fountain gurgled behind me like it was judging my life choices.

"My dad's an accountant," I improvised. "He says these things are illegal-ish."

Tyler stood up, hatless, looking weirdly vulnerable without his uniform. "You think I shouldn't invest?"

"Dude, you have forty dollars," I said.

"You counted my money?" he asked.

"Everyone counts your money, Tyler. You pull it out to buy vending machine chips like you're funding a startup."

Isabella laughed. The weird thing was, Tyler smiled too.

"You're funny," he said. "What's your name again?"

"Maya."

"Cool hat," he gestured to my beanie. "Very mysterious spy vibes."

I smiled despite myself. The whole social pyramid thing felt different from down here on the ground. Not like something to climb, but like something we were all just sort of building together, badly.

"Your hair looks good," I said. "Without the hat."

He grinned. Isabella rolled her eyes.

"Anyway," Isabella said, "about those NFTs—"

"Illegal-ish," I reminded them.

Chloe found me five minutes later by the water fountains. "Well? Did you get the dirt?"

"Better," I said. "I accidentally became their financial advisor."

She stared at me.

"Also," I added, "Tyler's going to ask you to homecoming. He asked me for advice on how to do it."

Chloe's face did this whole thing.

"And," I finished, "I think you owe me five dollars."

She handed it over without asking questions.

Some missions, you don't need spy gear. You just need to be in the right place at the right time, running away from all the wrong things.