Operation: Get the Girl

In the highly classified world of high school hallway espionage, Max Rivers considered himself an expert. He could dodge surprise pop quizzes, sneak snacks past even the scariest lunch monitors, and memorize the exact timing of the vending machine restock. But his biggest mission yet?

Operation: Win the Heart of Riley Summers.

Riley wasn’t just anyone. She was the editor of the school paper, captain of the debate team, and the girl who made hoodies and headphones look like high fashion. Max had been quietly—okay, obsessively—admiring her from afar since sophomore year. And now, in the chaos of junior spring, he’d finally worked up the courage to do something about it.

He just needed a plan.

“Your odds are slim,” his best friend Mia said, tapping away on her tablet at lunch. “But not zero.”

“That’s so encouraging,” Max muttered, crumpling another failed draft of a love letter into his backpack.

Mia didn’t look up. “You need a strategy. Something bold. Something unforgettable.”

“Like what?”

She smirked. “You know how the newspaper staff is doing that feature on secret admirers next week?”

“…Yeah?”

“Submit one.”

Max blinked. “Like, anonymously?”

“No. Sign it.” She grinned. “Mission: Impossible? Not for a heart on a mission.”

Max groaned but couldn’t help smiling. Leave it to Mia to turn his romantic meltdown into a covert op.

By Thursday, Max had written, edited, and rewritten his letter five times. He even used Mia’s fancy stationery. It wasn’t too sappy, wasn’t too cheesy. Just honest.

“To Riley Summers,

I know we don’t talk much, but I see you—every time you take over a class debate, every time you help someone with their locker, every time you roll your eyes when Mr. Lawson starts another ‘back in my day’ rant. I think you’re kind of amazing. And I’d like to get to know you… if you’d want that too.

– Max Rivers.”

He slipped it into the submission box outside the journalism room and walked away like he hadn’t just detonated a social bomb.

The next day, everything was… normal.

Too normal.

No one cornered him in the hallway. No one laughed at him. Riley didn’t even glance his way. Max spent all of Friday in a fog of anxiety, replaying every word of the letter in his head like a glitchy mixtape.

By Monday, the article went live.

“Secret Letters and Bold Hearts: Riverdale’s Most Unexpected Admirers”

Max braced himself as students scrolled through it on their phones. Then he saw her.

Riley. Sitting alone under the bleachers during break, the sunlight catching the edge of her laptop. She was reading the article.

Then… she smiled.

Not a full laugh. Not a smirk.

A real, soft smile.

And then she looked up—right at Max.

His brain short-circuited.

She stood, closed her laptop, and walked toward him like it was nothing. Like it was everything.

“Hey,” she said.

Max tried to stay cool. “Hey.”

She paused. “So, I read the letter.”

“Oh.” He tried not to squeak. “Right.”

“I liked it.”

“Oh.” Wait, what?

She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “It was brave. And sweet. And… unexpected.”

Max swallowed. “Unexpected in a good way?”

“In a great way.”

There was a beat. Then another.

Max blinked. “Would you maybe want to hang out sometime? Like… not just as part of a top-secret mission?”

Riley grinned. “Are you asking me on a non-spy date?”

“Exactly.”

“I’d like that.”

Over the next few weeks, Max’s world got a little brighter.

They started talking between classes. She introduced him to her favorite indie bands. He taught her how to hack the vending machine for two bags of chips instead of one. They worked on a crossword together in the library, sharing earbuds and candy.

He learned she hated bananas. She learned he cried at Pixar movies. He told her how hard it was to open up. She told him she didn’t let many people in.

And slowly, surely, Max realized something: falling for someone wasn’t about grand gestures or dramatic declarations.

It was in the small stuff.

The “good mornings” at their lockers. The way she saved him a seat in chem lab. The way she looked at him like he wasn’t invisible anymore.

One afternoon, as they walked home together, Riley nudged him with her shoulder.

“So… what’s the next mission, Agent Rivers?”

He smiled, tugging his hoodie down to hide the blush creeping up his neck. “I was thinking… Operation: First Kiss?”

Riley laughed, eyes sparkling. “Hmm. Sounds risky. High stakes. Potential for disaster.”

“Definitely.”

She stopped walking. Turned to him.

“Let’s do it anyway.”

And under the soft light of a setting sun, with sneakers touching and hearts pounding, they kissed—sweet, a little clumsy, and absolutely perfect.

Mission: accomplished.