The Spy in Room 204

Maya checked her phone again. Still nothing from Jake. The party was in full swing downstairs — bass thumping through the floor, people laughing, red cups everywhere. But she'd snuck up to the spare bedroom to check her DMs because she was basically a spy at this point. The way she hovered over his shoulder in chem lab, the way she'd memorized his schedule without trying — if Jake knew half the thoughts in her head, he'd think she was a total creep.

"There you are," Chloe said, appearing in the doorway with two red cups. "You've been MIA for twenty minutes. Jake's looking for you, by the way."

Maya's stomach did that thing — that flip-flop zombie apocalypse feeling where she was simultaneously dead inside and hyper-caffeinated. "He's looking for me?"

"Yeah, he was asking where you went. Something about your Spanish project?" Chloe handed her a cup. "Here, liquid courage. Also, you left this downstairs." She held out a paper plate with a sad-looking spinach artichoke dip that had gone cold. "You were obsessively eating this earlier."

Maya grabbed the plate. "I was nervous. Spinach calms me down, okay? Don't judge."

"I'm not judging, I'm just saying it's weird." Chloe leaned against the doorframe. "So are you gonna talk to him or hide up here all night being a total spy?"

Before Maya could answer, something crashed into her legs.

"Buster!" Jake's voice from the hallway.

A golden retriever — someone must have brought him — had bounded into the room and was now enthusiastically licking Maya's spinach dip off the plate. Maya froze. This was it. This was the most embarrassing moment of her life.

Jake appeared in the doorway, looking unfairly good even in a dimly lit hallway. "Oh my god, I'm so sorry. Buster, no!" He grabbed the dog's collar. "Are you okay? Did he— did he eat your dip?"

Maya looked at the dog, who was now thumping his tail against her leg like they were best friends. She looked at Jake, who was actually smiling.

"Yeah," she said. "He ... he really loved the spinach."

Jake laughed. It was a real laugh, not the fake one he used with teachers. "That's literally the wildest thing I've ever seen. You good?"

"I'm good," Maya said. And for the first time all night, she wasn't lying. The spy stuff, the zombie nerves, the weird spinach habit — somehow Jake's dog eating her food had broken whatever spell she'd been under. "Actually, Jake, about that Spanish project..."

"Yeah?" He was still holding Buster's collar, smiling at her like she was a person and not a project to decode.

"We should probably get started. Tomorrow?"

"Tomorrow," he agreed. "Same time, same place, minus the spinach theft?"

"Deal."

Maya stood up, grabbing her phone off the bed. No more spying. Time to actually exist.