The Vitamin Shop Spy

Maya's summer was shaping up to be total trash. Stuck working at her dad's failing vitamin shop while her friends were at the lake, living their best lives without her. The shop smelled like old people and desperation, and the only excitement came from watching the cable guy work across the street every afternoon.

"You're letting that **bull**shit narrative run your life," her best friend Jaz had said the night before, FaceTiming from a party Maya wasn't at. "Your dad's business isn't your problem."

But it was. The shop was everything to Dad since Mom left.

Then she noticed him—the guy in the gray hoodie. Always outside the shop, always on his phone. A total **spy**, she decided. Maybe corporate espionage? Some wellness chain trying to steal Dad's secret recipes? Maya started watching back, snapping stealthy pics through the dusty windows, feeling like a low-key detective in a YA novel.

Day three of stakeout duty, her hands shook as she arranged the vitamin C display. Hoodie Guy was actually coming inside.

"Can I help you?" she tried to sound professional, not like someone who'd been obsessively documenting his movements.

He pulled back his hood. Cameron. From AP English. The quiet one who sat in the back.

"I was actually..." He blushed. "I was trying to work up the courage to talk to you."

Maya's brain short-circuited. "Wait—you were WHAT?"

"Spying? Yeah. I mean, not in a creepy way. I've noticed you at school, and then I saw you working here, and I kept walking by, but every time I tried to come in, I'd bail. I'm not great at this." He gestured between them helplessly. "Obviously."

The bell above the door jingled. Dad emerged from the back, holding a frayed **cable** he'd been trying to fix for weeks. "Maya, honey, I think the internet's finally—oh."

The tension was excruciating.

"Cameron was just leaving," Maya said quickly, but her eyes met his. Something crackled.

"Right. Leaving." He paused at the door. "Hey, there's this party at Tyler's this weekend. If you wanted to... I don't know, not work?"

Later, Jaz demanded receipts. "So you're saying the mysterious spy was actually just a thirsty boy trying to shoot his shot? Classic."

Maya smiled at her reflection, applying lip gloss. "I think this summer might not be trash after all."