The Party Protocol

Maya's iphone buzzed against her thigh, illuminating the dark bedroom with its notification glow. 11:47 PM. Jordan's text glowed back at her: 'party @ Kyle's. u coming?'

She'd been waiting for this invitation since seventh grade, when the popular crowd had seemed like a different species. Now she was a freshman, and Jordan—actual Jordan with the perfect hair and 5k followers—had noticed her existence.

But there was the situation in the corner. Her mom's prize-winning Persian cat, Princess Fluffington (yes, really), was currently pinned behind the laundry basket, hissing at the intruder. Buster, the neighbor's elderly golden retriever, had somehow gotten into their backyard and then the house through the back door Maya had left cracked open.

'Just go,' her texts read. 'Mom and Dad won't be back until Sunday. It's ONE party.'

But Princess Fluffington was having none of it. The cat's amber eyes glowed with murderous intent, and Buster—bless his dumb, happy heart—kept trying to make friends, tail wagging like a metronome set to 'enthusiastic disaster.'

The doorbell rang.

Maya's heart did that thing where it forgot how to beat properly. Through the peephole: Jordan. Holding what looked like a slushie from the convenience store down the street.

'Hey!' Jordan's voice came through muffled. 'I know this is random, but I saw your lights on and—'

Maya's iphone lit up again. Another text from Jordan's number: 'where r u??? everyone's asking abt u'

Standing in her foyer was Jordan, who'd apparently already sent the party invitation. Meanwhile, her phone was getting texts FROM Jordan too.

Same outfit. Same everything. But Jordan was here.

'My dog got out,' Real-Jordan said through the door. 'Big, golden, kinda dumb? We think he's in someone's backyard.'

Behind Maya, Buster chose that exact moment to sneeze directly in Princess Fluffington's face.

The cat launched herself like a furry, wrathful rocket. Buster yelped and scrambled, claws skidding on the hardwood. Both animals careened into the laundry basket, sending it—and Maya's phone—sliding across the floor.

The iphone hit the wall with a spectacular crack.

Maya opened the door.

Fake-Jordan's texts made perfect sense now. Someone had stolen Jordan's phone. Probably the same person currently spamming everyone from it, setting up fake parties and chaos.

Real Jordan's face fell. 'Oh my god, is that—BASHER! YOU DUMBASS!'

The dog's tail thwacked happily against the doorframe.

'Is that...?' Jordan pointed at the cat, currently grooming herself with profound dignity, as if this whole incident had been her plan all along.

'That's Princess Fluffington,' Maya said. 'She hates everyone. But I think she just made friends with your dog.'

Jordan laughed, and Maya's chest did that thing where feelings lived. 'Wanna help me catch the dude who jacked my phone? We can call the cops, or we can handle it ourselves.'

Maya looked at her cracked iphone, then at Jordan's grin, then at the dog and cat now somehow sitting side by side like old friends.

'Oh,' Maya said. 'We're handling it ourselves.'