The Fox in the Room

Maya's palms were sweating. Again. She wiped them on her dress—this tiny slip of black fabric that Harper said made her look "lowkey devastating"—but the moisture just kept coming.

"You good?" Harper whispered, elbowing her in the ribs.

"I feel like a zombie," Maya muttered. "Like I died inside three hours ago and my body hasn't gotten the memo yet."

They were at Jordan's house party. The one everyone had been hyping up all week. The one where supposedly something *legendary* would happen. Whatever that meant.

The room was packed. People Maya recognized from school but never actually *spoke to* were scattered across the basement, clutching red Solo cups like they contained the meaning of life. Someone had pushed all the furniture against the walls to create a makeshift dance floor, where a group of sophomores were awkwardly moving to music that was way too loud for the space.

And then there was Alex.

Alex Chen, who sat next to her in AP Bio and always drew these tiny, perfect foxes in the margins of their shared lab notebook. Foxes doing calculus. Foxes conducting experiments. Foxes wearing lab coats and holding microscopes.

Maya had spent the entire semester developing a crush that was equal parts pathetic and intense. She'd catch herself staring at Alex's hands during lectures, wondering what it would be like to hold them. wondering if Alex's palms got sweaty too, or if they were just naturally cool and collected, unlike her own.

"He's looking at you," Harper said.

"No he's not."

"Maya. I swear to god."

Maya glanced up. And yeah—Alex *was* looking. Not even being subtle about it. Just staring, openly, from across the room, like he was trying to solve an equation.

Her stomach did this horrible flippy thing. Her brain went completely offline.

Then Alex was walking toward her, cutting through the crowd like he was on a mission, and Maya realized she might actually pass out. She might actually become a real zombie, right here in Jordan's basement, and it would be fine, it would be *better* than whatever conversation was about to happen.

"Hey," Alex said, stopping right in front of her. Up close, his eyes were the same warm brown as the foxes he drew.

"Hey," Maya managed, which was literally the only word she knew anymore.

"I, uh." Alex rubbed the back of his neck. "I noticed you noticed the foxes. In the notebook."

"Yeah," Maya said. "They're—I like them. They're really good."

"Thanks." Alex smiled, just a little crooked thing. "I was wondering if you wanted to... maybe draw something too? sometime? Like, together?"

Maya blinked.

"Like, art-wise," Alex added quickly. "If you're into that. If not, no worries, I just thought—"

"Yes," Maya said, cutting him off. "Yes. I mean—I'd like that. A lot."

"Cool." Alex exhaled. "Cool. Okay. I'll, uh, I'll find you tomorrow. In Bio."

"Okay."

"Okay."

He walked away, and Maya stood there, palms still sweaty, heart racing, feeling more alive than she had in months.

Harper grabbed her arm. "DID THAT JUST HAPPEN."

Maya laughed, real and surprised. "Yeah," she said. "Yeah, it did."