Undercover at the Mound

Maya adjusted her sunglasses for the third time. As undercover missions went, this was pathetic. She was seventeen, not exactly secret agent material, yet here she was: spying on Tyler from behind the concession stand at the baseball field like some desperate wannabe Nancy Drew.

"You look suspicious," said a voice behind her.

Maya nearly jumped out of her skin. Whirling around, she found Leo—Tyler's best friend, who happened to be the reason she'd started crushing on Tyler in the first place. Classic deflect-and-crush maneuver. She'd figured if she hung around Tyler enough, Leo would notice her.

His golden retriever, Barnaby, wagged his tail enthusiastically at her feet.

"I'm not suspicious," Maya lied smoothly. "Just waiting for my... order."

"From the closed concession stand?" Leo raised an eyebrow. "Bold strategy."

Her palm was sweating. Why was her palm sweating? It wasn't even that warm out. This was what happened when your brain decided to short-circuit in front of the person you'd been secretly low-key obsessed with since sophomore year.

Barnaby chose that moment to spot a squirrel and take off like a furry rocket, tangling his leash around Maya's legs. She stumbled forward, directly into Leo's personal space. His hands caught her elbows, steadying her.

"You're terrible at being a spy," he said softly, seriously, like he wasn't joking at all.

"What?"

"You've been 'spying' on Tyler for three weeks." He actually did the air quotes. "Meanwhile, I've been waiting for you to notice me since homecoming."

The cable guy's van was parked nearby, and through the open window, they could hear some reality show playing. This whole moment felt like something from a script—a terrible, wonderful, completely unbelievable script.

Leo's golden retriever returned with the squirrel's abandoned nut, dropping it proudly at Maya's feet like some offering.

"Barnaby approves," Leo said, still holding her arms. "So. You done with the whole secret mission thing?"

She looked at Tyler in the distance, at the dog at her feet, at this boy who'd apparently been watching her watch his best friend. The absurdity of it hit her—all that energy wasted, when the real thing had been standing there all along.

"Yeah," Maya said, finally letting herself really look at him. "I think I'm done."

"Good." Leo grinned. "Because you were really bad at it."

She laughed, and her palm stopped sweating.