Thunder Barking

Maya's golden retriever, Buster, was the worst spy ever. That was the problem when your best friend was a dog who treated squirrels like personal enemies and got distracted by every single food wrapper on the sidewalk.

Their mission: observe Caleb from behind the oak tree during lunch. Maya, grade eleven, had been crushing on him since September, and somehow watching him eat a sandwich from fifty feet away felt less creepy than just saying hi. Buster was supposed to be her cover story.

"Stay," she whispered, gripping his leash. "We are invisible. We are mysterious."

Buster saw a pigeon. Buster decided pigeons were his new reason for living.

"No! Bad spy!" Maya hissed as he lunged, dragging her into plain view. She crashed into someone—literally, full-on collision—and her phone flew out of her hand, skidding across the pavement.

Caleb looked up. Their eyes met. Maya's soul left her body.

"Whoa," he said, standing up. "You okay?"

"Yeah," she squeaked. "Just. Spy training. With Buster." Face, meet palm.

But then Caleb laughed—not mean laughing, actual genuine laughing—and helped her up. "Spy training? Finally, someone gets it. My dog's been terrible at it too."

Maya blinked. "You have a dog?"

"Houdini," he said, pointing to a tiny corgi who was currently stealing food from someone's abandoned lunch bag. "We're both working on our stealth game."

Thunder cracked overhead. The sky opened up—sheets of rain and lightning flashing purple-white across the campus. Everyone sprinted inside except Maya, Caleb, and two dogs who decided this was the perfect moment to chase each other in circles.

"Houdini!" Caleb called, laughing as his corgi did zoomies in the rain.

"Buster, you traitor!" Maya yelled, but she was smiling.

They ran after their dogs, accidentally-on-purpose ending up under the same shelter, soaked and breathless. Lightning illuminated everything in sudden flashes—Caleb's wet hair plastered to his forehead, his crooked grin, the way his eyes found hers in the dark between thunder.

"So," he said, "same time tomorrow? Spy training continues?"

Maya's heart did something that probably defied several laws of physics. "Only if your dog passes the field assessment."

"Deal." He paused. "Or we could just... you know. Sit together. Without the spy thing."

"That," Maya said, "would be highly illogical, agent."

"But?"

"But I think that's an acceptable risk."

Lightning flashed again. Buster and Houdini collapsed on the dry ground together, two terrible spies who'd somehow pulled off the mission anyway.