The Pool Party Spy Network

The backyard hummed with that weird energy only happens when half the sophomore class is crammed into one space. I stood by the **pool**, clutching my Solo cup like it contained the antidote to social anxiety, while Maya's **cat**, Barnaby, wove through everyone's legs like he owned the place.

"Yo, you see Liam texting again?" Jenna whispered, dramatically lowering her oversized sunglasses. "That's gotta be about what happened at homecoming."

I rolled my eyes so hard I saw my own brain. "Jenna, you literally **spy** on everyone's phone screens. It's giving obsessed."

"It's called gathering intel," she shot back, then pointed toward the deep end where Tyler — possibly the finest human to ever exist — was doing cannonballs with his boys. "Speaking of intel, someone told me Tyler thinks you're cute."

"That's total **bull** and you know it," I said, but my stomach did that embarrassingly fluttery thing anyway. "He literally doesn't know I exist."

Just then, Tyler's friend Zack splashed water everywhere, accidentally hitting Barnaby. The cat yowled and jumped straight into my arms, all claws and indignation. Tyler turned, caught my awkward struggle with an angry wet cat, and — I swear — smiled.

"Nice save," he said, swimming over to the edge. "Barnaby hates everyone. You must be special."

My face burned. Jenna mouthed 'I TOLD YOU SO' with the subtlety of a megaphone.

"Yeah, well," I managed, "guess I'm a cat whisperer now."

Later that night, staring at my ceiling, my phone buzzed. Unknown number: 'This is Tyler. Jenna gave me your number. Barnaby says you're cool.' I fell asleep smiling, despite everything, even as Jenna texted me the undercover operation photos she'd somehow managed to take. Some people really *do* make everything their business.