The Orange Padel Conspiracy

Maya pressed her back against the gym wall, heart pounding like she'd just sprinted a marathon. Being a wannabe spy wasn't supposed to feel this stomach-churning.

Three weeks ago, she'd noticed Liam—gorgeous, dimpled Liam, who sat two rows back in AP Bio—staring at her during lunch. Not like normal staring. Like *intense* staring. Then she'd seen him at the padel courts on Saturday, matching her neon orange headband with an orange wristband of his own. Coincidence? Her best friend Chloe didn't think so.

"He's obsessed with you," Chloe had declared between bites of pizza. "He's copying your style. That's literally peak crush behavior."

Maya had scoffed, but doubt gnawed at her. What if Chloe was right? What if she was missing signals because she was too busy overthinking everything?

Now, hidden behind the equipment shed, Maya watched Liam lean against the chain-link fence. He was wearing that orange shirt again—like, the exact same shade as her favorite hoodie. A girl walked up to him. Pretty. Confident. The type who'd never hide behind gym equipment.

"Hey," the girl said. "Nice shirt."

"Thanks," Liam said, scratching his neck. "My sister picked it out. Said I needed more color in my life."

Maya's stomach dropped.

"Wanna play padel later?" the girl asked. "I saw you practicing last week."

"Sure," Liam said, grinning. "I've been getting way better."

He glanced toward the gym, toward where Maya usually sat with her sketchbook. For a second, Maya thought he was looking for *her*. Then he adjusted his orange glasses and headed toward the courts.

The conspiracy theory dissolved like sugar in water. No secret messages. No matching orange aesthetic as a sign. Just a guy wearing orange because his sister told him to.

Chloe was waiting by the exit, eyebrows raised. "Well?"

"Operation: Spy Mission is officially cancelled," Maya said, surprising herself with a laugh. "Turns out, not everything's about me."

"So what now?" Chloe asked.

Maya watched Liam walk toward the padel courts, orange shirt bright against the gray sky. She could keep hiding. Or she could just... talk to him.

"Now?" Maya straightened her spine. "Now I'm gonna go ask if he wants to be partners for the tournament. No spying required."