Maya's POV
People think being fifteen means worrying about grades, popularity, and what to wear to school. For me, it means memorizing access codes, hiding weapons in lockers, and pretending my biggest problem is a math test.
I'm Maya Rivers. Student. Spy. And unfortunately—Ethan Cole's rival.
He's already there when I entered the cafeteria, leaning against the wall like he owns the place. Same effortless confidence. Same irritating calmness. Same stupidly sharp eyes that miss absolutely nothing.
He notices me instantly.
Of course he does.
"You're late," Ethan says, glancing at his watch. "Again."
I drop my bag onto the table. "I'm right on time."
"For normal students, maybe." His lips curve into that teasing smirk. "Spies are supposed to be punctual."
I grit my teeth. "Spies are supposed to be adaptable."
He laughs softly, and for one dangerous second, I almost forget why I want to beat him so badly.
Almost.
Ethan Cole is the academy's golden boy. Fastest in training. Best scores. Cleanest missions. He never lets me forget that I'm always just one step behind him.
But I will catch up.
I have to.
Because I didn't join the academy to be second best.
Ethan's POV
Maya Rivers walks like she's constantly proving something—even when she doesn't realize it. Chin lifted. Shoulders squared. Eyes sharp with determination.
It's annoying.
And impressive.
I tease her because it's easy. Because she reacts. Because when she glares at me like she wants to throw something, it makes the day less boring.
But the truth?
She's getting better. Fast.
And that scares me more than I'd ever admit.
I slide a folded note across her table as I pass. "Briefing after third period. Try not to get distracted."
She looks up. "By what?"
I lean closer. "By me."
Her cheeks heat instantly. Victory.
That afternoon, the academy training room hums to life. Laser grids, simulated alarms, countdown timers. This is where students fail—or prove themselves.
Maya stands across from me, jaw tight, hands steady.
"Same rules as always," the instructor says. "Fastest completion wins."
Maya doesn't look at me. "I'm not losing today."
I grin. "That's cute."
The timer starts.
She's quick—dodging lasers, cracking codes, adapting when plans fail. She makes one small mistake at the final lock, and I finish seconds before her.
Seconds.
I expect frustration.
Instead, she meets my eyes with fire.
"Next time," she says quietly, "I won't hesitate."
Something twists in my chest.
"Good," I reply. "I'd hate to get bored."