The Spy in the Running Hat

Maya felt like a zombie most days by seventh period, thanks to AP Bio, track practice, and her mom's insistence that she take this massive vitamin D supplement every morning. "You're always inside, never enough sunshine," her mom would say, handing her the chalky horse pill that Maya would secretly spit into the potted plant by the front door.

Today though, Maya had a mission. She adjusted her lucky running hat—this faded navy blue dad cap she'd found at a thrift store last summer—and positioned herself behind the library shelves. She was basically a spy at this point. Her target: Kai Matthews, junior varsity soccer star and the reason Maya had started sitting three rows closer to the windows in English.

The hat had become her thing. Last year, she wouldn't have been caught dead in something so "trying too hard," but freshman Maya was apparently brave enough to commit to a bit. Even if it meant her friends called it "the hat that ate Maya's head" and asked if she was planning to rob a convenience store afterward.

"Maya!" whispered Jordan, yanking her sleeve. "He's looking over here. Act natural!"

Maya froze. She was definitely not acting natural. She was crouched behind a biography section, spine-tinglingly aware that her legs were asleep and that her running hat had probably slid down to cover one eye.

Then came the text that changed everything: *ur hat looks cool today. 4real. – Kai*

Maya practically stopped breathing. Then she did something completely un-strategic: she bolted. Like, full-on running out of the library, past the confused librarian, through the hallway where people definitely stared, and out the side doors near the track.

She didn't stop until she reached the bleachers. Her chest burned. Her phone buzzed again.

*Kai: wyd?

*Maya: track stuff. cramping.

*Kai: lol fair. wanna get boba friday?

Maya sat on the metal bench, heart racing, and adjusted her hat. Maybe tomorrow she'd actually take the vitamin. Or maybe she'd just keep getting through life on adrenaline and the occasional win from a cute soccer player who apparently had decent taste in headgear.

Either way, she was definitely done playing spy. Being the subject of attention was way more terrifying. Also kind of awesome.