The Fox Knew My Username

Maya pressed her back against the kitchen island, solo cup sweating in her palm. This party was supposed to be different—supposed to be the night she finally became someone else. Someone who didn't overthink every social interaction like she was running diagnostics on a crashing app.

Instead, she was hovering near the snacks again.

"Blocking the Doritos," said a voice behind her.

Maya jumped, sloshing slightly. Standing there was Leo from AP Bio, that guy who sat in the back and still got everything right. He had quiet energy that made everyone lean in when he spoke.

"Sorry." She sidestepped. "Strategic positioning."

Leo laughed, and it was genuine. "For escape routes?"

"Duh. Party survival 101."

"I'm Leo. Not the Dog yet, but working on it."

Her confusion must have shown.

"The group chat," he said. "You're Cat, right?"

The group chat. The one where she'd accidentally posted that way-too-honest rant about imposter syndrome last week, and someone had tagged her with the cat emoji because she "curled into a ball when things got real." The nickname had stuck—mostly because she hadn't protested, which only proved their point.

Her face burned. "That's me. Professional avoider."

"I thought it was because you landed on your feet," Leo said. "You literally saved the Spanish presentation when Sarah froze."

"I panicked. It wasn't—"

"Still counted." He took a sip from his cup. "Anyway, apparently I'm the Dog now. Got dogpiled after the quiz for posting the study guide. Which I didn't even mean to share."

Maya blinked. "You're THE Dog? Everyone's been talking about this mysterious Dog who saved our collective GPA."

"It was just notes." He shrugged. "But apparently that makes me a good boy now."

She snorted before she could stop herself. Across the room, she saw Nicole—aka the Fox, because she was impossibly clever and always three moves ahead of everyone—glancing their way with this satisfied smile.

"Did Nicole put you up to this?" Maya asked suddenly.

Leo's ears went slightly pink. "She might have mentioned that the Cat was hiding in the kitchen and needed rescuing. She said you'd appreciate a dog who doesn't bite."

Maya looked at Nicole, who gave her an exaggerated thumbs-up. The Fox, indeed—manipulating social dynamics like she was playing 4D chess while everyone else was stuck on checkers.

"I think I'm being played," Maya said, but she was smiling.

"Maybe." Leo's fingers brushed hers as he shifted his weight. "But sometimes getting played is exactly what you need. Nicole said you've been overthinking reaching out since October."

"She's not wrong."

"So let me make this easy." He met her eyes. "Dinner Friday? No group chat required."

Maya stood taller. The urge to retreat like a startled cat was still there, familiar and loud. But Leo was waiting, and Nicole was watching from across the room, practically vibrating with satisfaction.

"Friday," she said. "Pick me up at seven."

Leo's grin lit up his whole face. In the corner, Nicole mouthed "YOU'RE WELCOME" and actually pumped her fist.

The party was definitely different now.