The Goldfish Operative

Maya crouched behind the cafeteria trash can, phone clutched like a weapon. She was on a mission—Operation Crush Reconnaissance. Okay, fine. She was basically a self-appointed spy, but it sounded cooler in her head.

Her target: Fox, the new guy with electric-blue hair and a leather jacket that definitely violated dress code. He sat at the center table with the popular crowd, laughing at something Jenna said. Maya's heart did that annoying flutter thing it always did when he looked her way.

Her phone buzzed. "Status report?" – from Sam, her best friend and co-conspirator in this entire stalking situation.

"Target is eating tater tots. Mission ongoing," Maya typed back, then yelped when something wet nudged her ankle.

Buster. Her mom's golden retriever had somehow—AGAIN—snuck out of the house and followed her to school. The dog flopped onto the linoleum, tongue lolling, completely shameless.

"Oh my god, Buster, no!" Maya whispered frantically. But it was too late. Fox had noticed. He pushed away from the table and walked over, and Maya's stomach dropped through the floor.

"Hey," he said, crouching to scratch Buster's ears. "Is this your dog?"

Maya's face burned. "Yeah. He's... escape artist."

Fox laughed, and it was better than his actual laugh from across the cafeteria. "He's awesome. What's his name?"

"Buster."

"Cool." He looked at her, really looked at her, for the first time. "I'm Fox. Like the animal, not the news network."

"I know," she said, then immediately wanted to die. "I mean—I'm Maya."

"Maya." He said it like he was testing it out. "You want to grab coffee later? With Buster?"

Later that night, Maya sat at her desk, reliving every awkward moment of the past three hours. Coffee had been surprisingly not-terrible. Fox had told her he moved here from Chicago, loved indie music, and had a pet goldfish named Wolfgang that he'd won at a carnival.

"He named a goldfish Wolfgang," she told the actual goldfish in the bowl on her dresser. "What even is my life?"

Goldie swam to the surface, mouth opening and closing like she had opinions.

"I know, right?" Maya said. "Yesterday I was the invisible girl spying on his lunch table. Today I have his number in my phone."

She checked it again, just to make sure. Still there. And tomorrow, she wouldn't be watching from behind the trash can.

"Operation Crush Reconnaissance complete," she whispered to Goldie. "And nobody died of embarrassment. Mostly."