Hieroglyphics in the Hallway

My beanie—that knit hat I'd spent twenty minutes perfecting this morning—was now basically a security blanket. I kept adjusting it, like the brim could somehow hide me from **Jordan**, who stood three lockers down, looking like they'd stepped out of a Pinterest board.

"Hey, Marcus." Jordan's voice hit me sideways. "You doing the Egypt project too?"

My brain short-circuited. This was Jordan. The Jordan. The one who'd sat behind me in bio freshman year, somehow never noticing I'd spent six months **running** scenarios in my head where I finally talked to them. And now here we were, and I was holding it together about as well as a sand castle at high tide.

"Uh, yeah," I managed. "Got assigned to the **sphinx** riddle group."

"No way." Their eyes lit up. "Same here! Mr. Harrison said it's the hardest one."

"You nervous?"

"Terrified." They laughed, and something in my chest did this annoying flutter thing. "But my cousin's an Egyptologist, so I've got cheat codes."

The bell rang, and we started walking toward World History together. Like, TOGETHER together. I kept waiting to wake up.

"So," Jordan said, "you know how the social **pyramid** works at this school? Like who sits where at lunch?"

I blinked. "Yeah?"

"Well," they lowered their voice, "I've been sitting at the wrong table for two years because I didn't know where else to go. So if you and your crew don't mind company..."

I stopped walking. "You want to sit with US?"

"Why's that crazy? You're cool." They looked at me, actually looked at me, like I was someone worth knowing. "Plus, you always have those dinosaur gummies. I'm not too proud to admit that's a motivator."

I started laughing. I couldn't help it. "Jordan, I'd trade my entire snack stash for you to sit with us."

"Deal." They grinned. "See you at lunch?"

"Yeah. See you."

As they walked into their classroom, I adjusted my hat one more time. Maybe tomorrow I'd even take it off.