Under Cover

Maya pulled the brim of her dad's old baseball hat down low, trying to disappear. Which was ironic, considering she was literally standing in the middle of the food court during Friday lunch.

"You look like you're about to rob a pretzel stand," said Jenna, rolling her eyes as she slid into the seat across from her. "Also, everyone can still see you. The hat isn't cloaking device."

Maya's face burned. "I'm not trying to be invisible. I'm just... laying low."

"Laying low from who?" Jenna popped a chip into her mouth. "Or should I ask—from whom?"

Maya peeked over the menu she wasn't reading. Three tables over, Jordan sat with his new friends, laughing at something she couldn't hear. They'd dated for six months before he decided he needed space to figure himself out. Two weeks later, he'd apparently figured out that he wanted to date Taylor instead.

"I'm not spying on him," Maya lied. "I'm spy adjacent. There's a difference."

"You're literally going full Nancy Drew. Next you'll be borrowing binoculars."

"I don't need binoculars. I have 20/20 vision and acute emotional damage."

Jenna laughed, but Maya felt hollow. It had been a month. She should be over it by now. Everyone else was already over it. Jordan and Taylor were posting thirst traps together, her friends were tired of hearing about it, and Maya was still hiding under hats and lurking in food courts like a single-for-life auntie at a wedding.

Then Jordan stood up.

Maya's heart did that stupid fluttery thing it always did. He was walking toward her—no, past her. Toward the exit. But then he stopped. Turned. Their eyes met across the crowded food court, and suddenly everything was loud and quiet at the same time.

Outside, lightning flashed. A moment later, thunder rattled the food court's skylights. The afternoon storm had arrived early.

Jordan started walking toward her. Maya's brain blue-screened. What was she supposed to do with her hands? Did she smile? Look away? Pretend she was deeply fascinated by this menu she'd memorized forty minutes ago?

"Hey," he said, stopping at their table.

"Hey," she managed. Her voice squeaked. Because of course it did.

"Your hat," Jordan nodded at it. "It's... different."

"It's my dad's. From the nineties. Retro, you know?" Why was she explaining fashion history to him? Just stop talking, Maya.

"It looks good on you." He paused. "I've been wanting to talk to you, but every time I see you, you're... somewhere else."

"Spy adjacent," Jenna offered unhelpfully.

Jordan's mouth twitched. "I deserved that."

Maya's fingers tightened around her juice box. She could feel the moment stretching between them like the air before lightning strikes—charged, inevitable, about to change everything.

"I miss you," he said quietly.

And just like that, Maya didn't want to hide anymore. She pushed back the brim of her hat, let him see her face—all of it, the mess and the want and the hope she hadn't been able to kill.

"I miss you too," she said. "But I'm not sharing my fries."