Goldfish & The Sphinx

The **pool** party at Tyler's house was supposed to be the kickoff to sophomore year, the kind of thing that'd be all over Instagram stories by midnight. But there I was, clutching a bag of cheddar **goldfish** like it was a lifeline, standing way too close to the snack table while everyone else was splash-fighting and doing cannonballs.

I'd worn my new **orange** bikini—the one I'd spent forty bucks on at Urban—but now I felt like I was glowing for all the wrong reasons. Like a traffic cone. A socially anxious traffic corner.

Then I saw him.

He was perched on the diving board like he was posing for an album cover. Black combat boots. A beat-up denim jacket. And on his head—a bucket **hat** embroidered with tiny mushrooms. He wasn't swimming. Wasn't on his phone. Just watching everything like he was analyzing data for a science project.

That was Lucas. Everyone called him 'the **Sphinx**' because he barely spoke but somehow knew everyone's secrets. He'd transferred in freshman year and spent most of his time in the art room, creating these surreal paintings that made you feel weird things you couldn't explain.

"Nice hat," I said, immediately wishing I could swallow the words.

His eyes shifted toward me, sharp and knowing. "Thanks. Found it at a thrift store in Portland."

"You weren't gonna swim?"

He shook his head. "Chlorine messes with my tattoos."

I didn't know he had tattoos.

"You want some goldfish?" I held out the bag like an offering.

A tiny smile cracked his serious expression. "Only if they're the rainbow ones."

"Regular cheddar. Sorry."

"Those work too."

He hopped off the diving board and came over, and suddenly I wasn't standing alone at the snack table anymore. We sat on the edge of the pool, feet dangling in the water, sharing goldfish and talking about his art and my fear of junior year, while the party roared around us like distant static.

Sometimes the best moments aren't the ones you plan for Instagram. They're the ones that happen when you're just sitting there, feet in the water, sharing crackers with a boy in a mushroom hat who treats you like you're the most interesting person at the party.