The Third Wheel on Two Legs

Maya pressed herself against the lockers, holding her breath like she was underwater. This was pathetic. She was literally hiding behind a pillar because Caleb and Jenna were walking down the hallway together, laughing at something that was definitely funnier than anything Maya had said all week.

"You're being dramatic," her inner voice said. But her inner voice was wrong. Last night, she'd spent two hours scrolling through Jenna's finsta — every post, every story, every song lyric that might be about someone. Maya was basically a professional internet spy at this point, and the intel was crushing: she was becoming the third wheel in her own friend group.

The real kick in the teeth? They'd known each other since kindergarten. Jenna was supposed to be HER person.

"Hey!" a voice boomed behind her, and Maya jumped so hard she dropped her phone.

Caleb's golden retriever, Buster, bounded toward her, tail wagging like he'd just won the lottery. Buster was the kind of dog who acted like everyone was his favorite person in the world, even though Maya knew for a fact he loved Caleb best.

"Buster, stop," she whispered, but he was already doing figure-eights around her legs. The bell rang, and the hallway flooded with people. Great. Now she was the girl who got jumped by someone's dog.

Caleb came jogging over, breathless. "Sorry! He got away from me — again." He grinned, and Maya's stomach did that annoying fluttery thing. "You okay?"

"Fine," she said, maybe too quickly. "Just hiding from... life."

Jenna appeared beside Caleb, looking between them with this expression Maya couldn't read. "We were gonna get boba after school," she said. "You should come."

Maya waited for the "if you want" or the qualifier that made it optional. But Jenna just stood there, expectant. Buster nudged Maya's hand with his wet nose, like he was rooting for her too.

"Okay," Maya heard herself say. "Yeah."

Later, as they walked to the boba place, Buster trotting ahead like he owned the sidewalk, Jenna linked her arm through Maya's. "You know you don't have to spy on my Instagram to know what's going on with me, right? You can just... ask."

Maya's face burned. "I wasn't —"

"You were," Jenna said, not unkindly. "But next time you're feeling left out? Just say something. You're my best friend. That hasn't changed."

Buster barked, like he was confirming it, and Maya laughed for real this time. Maybe she wasn't a spy. Maybe she was just someone who needed to remember that some things don't need to be decoded — they could just be real.