The Spy in Section 12

Jordan adjusted their baseball cap, pulling the brim lower like a shield. Section 12, row 5—basically nosebleeds, but definitely the best spot for their covert operation.

They were technically here to watch the game, but let's be real: Jordan was playing spy.

Their target: Maya, who sat three sections closer to the action, laughing with her friends like she didn't have a care in the world. Jordan had been crushing on her since biology lab, when she'd let them borrow her favorite pen and smiled like it was no big deal.

Now here they were, acting like some low-key detective, gathering intel through quick glances and strategically timed pretzel breaks.

"You gonna stare at Maya all night or actually watch baseball?"

Jordan jumped. Their best friend, Sam, slid into the seat beside them, holding two sodas. Jordan's face burned hotter than the concession stand nachos.

"I'm not staring. I'm observing. There's a difference."

"You're literally wearing your hat like you're in the Witness Protection Program." Sam handed them a soda. "Bro, just go talk to her."

"Easy for you to say. You didn't fail Spanish twice while she's literally fluent."

"So what? Maya doesn't care about grades. She probably thinks your whole 'struggling student' vibe is cute or whatever."

Jordan adjusted their hat again, heart pounding at the thought. Down on the field, the baseball game continued—some player hit a home run, the crowd went wild, but Jordan's attention was somewhere else entirely.

"I can't just walk up there. What do I even say? 'Hey Maya, love your vibe, also I've been spying on you from three sections back like a total creep'?"

Sam sighed. "Okay, first off, weird wording. Second, Maya just posted on her story that she's looking for people to form a study group for next semester's Spanish."

Jordan froze. "Wait, really?"

"Yeah, she literally said she needs help too. So you're both struggling. It's perfect."

Jordan peeked over their brim. Maya was still laughing with her friends, but now she looked different—not some untouchable goddess, but just another person who struggled with Spanish and probably got nervous about stuff too.

"Okay." Jordan took a deep breath. "Okay. But if this goes sideways, I'm never listening to you again."

"Deal. Now go. Before you overthink it."

Jordan stood up, heart hammering against their ribs like a nervous drum solo. They pushed their hat back, finally ready to stop playing spy and start playing themselves.