The Spy in Third Period

I was totally a spy. Okay, fine—not a REAL spy with cool gadgets and a passport full of fake names. But in the halls of Northwood High, I was basically undercover, gathering intel on why Jake Morrison suddenly started sitting at my lunch table.

Tuesday found me hiding behind my AP History textbook, peeking over the top like the world's worst detective. Jake was two rows away, running his hand through that messy dark hair that made every girl in our grade basically forget how to form coherent sentences. My palms were sweating so hard I could practically water-ski on them.

"You're being weird again," whispered Sofia, my best friend and the only person who knew about my two-year crush on Jake. "Also, your face is doing that thing where you look like you're solving a sphinx riddle but you're actually just staring."

"I am not," I hissed, but she wasn't wrong. Jake had been sitting with us for three days now, cracking jokes and acting all casual while my entire emotional state was somewhere between 'functioning human' and 'uncomfortable mermaid emoji.'

Then it happened. Jake turned around and caught me spying. Our eyes locked and I swear the entire room went vacuum-silent. He mouthed something at me.

I panicked. My brain short-circuited. I blurted, "WHAT?"

The whole class turned. Mr. Henderson sighed so hard I'm surprised he didn't deflate. Jake's face turned that specific shade of red that happens when you want to teleport through the floor.

After class, I found him waiting by my locker. My heart was basically doing parkour.

"Hey," he said. "I was trying to tell you—I'm joining track. You're the team captain, right?"

I stared at him. Then I looked at my old sneakers, the ones I'd been running in since freshman year. Then back at him.

"Oh," I said. "OH. Track. Right."

"Yeah," he rubbed the back of his neck, which was now matching his face. "I was hoping you could show me the ropes? I'm kinda terrible at it."

Something inside me did this little flip. Not a spy anymore. Just a girl who happened to know things about running, and a boy who happened to want to learn.

"Sure," I said, and my palms weren't sweating anymore. "Meet me at the track tomorrow. 7 AM. Don't be late."

Jake grinned. "Wouldn't dream of it."

I walked away fighting a smile so big my face actually hurt. Sofia was going to lose her entire mind, and honestly? Same.