Thunder in the Suburbs

The thunder cracked like someone snapping the world's biggest glow stick, and I pressed my face against the cold glass, scanning the Johnsons' backyard like I was some kind of secret agent. Operation: Figure Out Why Maya Was At My House Yesterday was officially underway.

"You're being literally obsessive," my little sister scoffed from behind me, not looking up from her phone. "It's been, what, twelve hours?"

"She left her hoodie, Bri." I turned back to the window. "I'm just being a good friend. Returning property. That's normal human behavior, right?"

Outside, Mr. Johnson's golden retriever—this massive, fluffy goofball named Buster—had somehow escaped again. He was trotting around their backyard like he owned the place, which honestly, he kind of did. The dude had better social standing than half our grade.

Another flash of lightning illuminated everything in this harsh, momentary freeze-frame. And there she was—Maya, standing on her back porch, phone pressed to her ear, looking like she was having the most intense conversation of her life.

My stomach did this absolutely pathetic little flip. Pathetic. I'm fourteen, not four.

Then their back door flew open, and Buster bolted like his life depended on it—straight toward the fence between our houses. Because of course he did. That dog had zero survival instincts and maximum chaos energy.

I watched Maya chase after him, laughing in this way that made my chest feel weirdly tight, and suddenly I realized I wasn't just some random spy anymore. I was a person with genuine feelings, standing in the dark, watching my crush chase a dog through a lightning storm because that's just what kind of night this was apparently going to be.

My phone buzzed.

Maya: hey sorry about yesterday, i left my hoodie lol

Maya: also buster is loose again, brace yourself

I stood there for a solid ten seconds, just processing, before the back doorbell rang.

"Well?" Bri said, finally looking up with this knowing little smirk. "You gonna get that, Agent Super-Spy?"

"Shut up," I muttered, but I was already moving toward the door, and maybe—just maybe—this wasn't a disaster waiting to happen. Maybe it was just the beginning.