The Instagram Spy Algorithm

Maya's cat, Jupiter, blinked slowly from his perch on the windowsill as she doomscrolled through Instagram for the third time that morning. She felt like a total spy, honestly—analyzing every post from the cool girls' squad like it was classified intelligence.

"You're obsessing again," her little brother chirped, popping a gummy **vitamin** and bouncing on his heels. "Just talk to them at school."

Easy for him to say. He wasn't the one who transferred to Northwood halfway through sophomore year when friend groups had already calcified like ancient coral.

At lunch, she sat with her palm sweating against her water bottle, watching The Table across the cafeteria. Chloe was laughing at something Ethan said, tossing her hair like it was a weapon. Maya had been positioned here for three weeks now—a tactical observer gathering data on their habits, their inside jokes, their seemingly effortless cool.

Then she noticed it: Chloe's phone case. Limited edition band merch. Same band Maya had seen in concert twice, same band she'd been lowkey obsessed with since eighth grade.

Her phone buzzed. A DM from Chloe.

hey saw your story about the concert!! they were so good right??

Maya's heart did this actual **lightning** strike thing where it simultaneously stopped and raced. She stared at the message like it might disappear.

She typed back: omg YES I've literally loved them forever

The reply came instantly. we should sit together at lunch tmrw?? eth thinks you're cool btw

Maya glanced up. Ethan waved. Her palm was definitely sweating now but in a good way, maybe.

"Dude," her brother said later, examining her grin. "You look like you just won the lottery."

"Better," she said, scratching Jupiter behind the ears. He purred like a tiny motor. "I think I just finally landed."