The Hat, The Dog, and Me

I pulled my beanie down lower—like, halfway to my eyebrows level—praying nobody at lunch would notice me. Freshman year was already a whole mood without my mom forcing me to take those disgusting gummy **vitamin** D supplements every morning because I 'never go outside.' Excuse me, I go outside plenty. Just not when there's sunlight involved.

That's when I saw it again. The **dog**.

A golden retriever kept appearing across the street whenever I left my house. Same spot. Same time. Watching. And okay, I know how this sounds—I've seen enough TikToks about main character syndrome to recognize the symptoms—but hear me out. This wasn't normal dog behavior. This was suspicious behavior.

'You're being paranoid,' Maya said when I told her about my theory in third period. She was fixing her eyeliner in her phone camera because she's actually capable of being functional before 10 AM. 'Not everyone is a **spy** sent to destroy your social life, Jordan.'

'Then explain why it's ALWAYS there,' I whispered, probably too loud for a math class where Mr. Henderson was definitely not teaching anything.

Maya paused, eyeliner pencil frozen. 'Okay, that is kinda weird.' She finally admitted.

Three days later, I decided to investigate like the absolutely normal and well-adjusted teenager I am. I waited until Saturday, put on my tactical disguise (same hat, different hoodie), and prepared to confront whatever situation was happening across the street.

The golden retriever was there. But this time, it ran toward me when I stepped off my porch, tail wagging so hard its whole body was basically vibrating. Attached to its collar? A note.

It led me to the house I'd been **spy**-ing on all week. The door opened before I could even process what was happening, and this girl stood there—gorgeous, effortlessly cool, holding the end of what I now realized was a very long **cable**.

'You must be Jordan,' she said, smiling like she wasn't destroying my entire worldview. 'Rex here really likes you. He's been escaping through the hole in our fence all week.' She gestured to the **cable** in her hand. 'Trying to fix it with my dad, but honestly, I think Rex just wanted more friends.'

I stood there, hat suddenly feeling ridiculous, realizing I'd spent a week thinking I was in some thriller movie when I was literally just being befriended by an escape-artist dog and the cute new neighbor who I'd been too nervous to even say hi to.

'So...' I managed, my voice doing this annoying crack thing. 'Want help with that fence?'