The Spy in the Orange Crush

My palms were literally dripping as I stood outside the 7-Eleven. Not like "oh I'm nervous" sweating — like actual, dripping-down-my-fingers sweating. Because in five minutes, I had to talk to him.

Jace was leaning against the brick wall, that perpetual almost-smirk on his face, messing with the loose threads on his flannel. I felt like I was being a total spy, watching him from behind my Slurpee cup like I was in some low-budget detective movie. He was just hanging out, being effortlessly chill, while I was over here having a full-on existential crisis.

"Hey," I managed. Wow. So eloquent. The conversation starter of the century.

Jace looked up, his eyes catching the orange glow from the sunset hitting the parking lot. "What's up, Maya?"

We'd been talking for maybe a month at school. The kind of talking where you find excuses to walk past someone's locker, or "accidentally" end up at the same lunch table. The kind that makes your friends go "Just TELL him already" like it's that simple.

"Nothing much," I said. Because I'm a coward.

This older guy with a trench coat (actual trench coat, like who does that anymore?) walked past, and Jace made a joke about how he looked like a cartoon spy from those bad movies they play at 2 AM. I laughed too hard, obviously, because I have zero chill when it matters.

Then my phone buzzed. Chloe, with her usual timely interruptions:

*u good?? did u confess yet?? don't make me come over there*

I shoved my phone back in my pocket. My palms were still sweating.

"So," Jace said, "I was gonna ask you something."

My heart literally stopped. Or at least it felt like it did. This was it. The moment every teen movie promises you, except with less romantic lighting and more fluorescent store lights buzzing overhead.

"Okay," I squeaked. Smooth.

"There's this show I've been binge-watching," he said, "and the season finale got corrupted on my DVR. The cable company can't fix it until Tuesday. You mentioned you watched it — do you remember what happens?"

I stood there, blinking. This wasn't the confession I'd mentally prepared for. Not even close. But his face was so hopeful, and honestly, it was kind of adorable that he cared that much about some random show.

"Actually, yeah," I said. "I can come over and tell you about it? If you want."

Jace's face lit up. "That would be amazing. Unless you have plans?"

"No plans," I said. "Unless you count standing in a 7-Eleven parking lot."

He laughed. "Cool. Want to walk to my place? It's not far."

I fell into step beside him, the orange light fading into blue twilight, and for the first time all day, my palms finally stopped sweating.

Sometimes the moments that matter aren't the ones you plan for. They're the ones that sneak up on you when you're busy panicking about something else entirely.