Lightning at the Sphinx Party

The vitamin gummy stuck to my teeth—literally the fifth one I'd snagged from Maya's mom's "wellness basket"—while I doomscrolled through my iPhone, watching my social battery drain faster than the phone's battery. House parties weren't really my thing. Too many people, not enough corners to disappear into.

Outside, lightning kept flashing across the sky like someone was taking photos with the world's brightest camera. The storm was supposed to be "atmospheric" for the party theme—Maya had gone full Percy Jackson nerd, which honestly? Kind of iconic.

But then I saw *him* in the corner of the yard, standing next to the cardboard sphinx Maya's brother had spent three weeks constructing for his history project. Jake. The guy who'd sat behind me in bio since September and never once said anything beyond "your hair's in my way."

He was examining the sphinx like it held the secrets of the universe.

"The nose is crooked," I heard myself saying before I could chicken out.

Jake jumped. "Whoa. Didn't see you there."

"Maya's brother messed it up last week. Tripped over his own cat."

"That explains so much." Jake grinned, and suddenly the room felt too warm despite the storm raging outside. "I'm Jake, by the way."

"I know. We have bio together."

"Oh." He rubbed the back of his neck. "Right. Sorry. I'm, like, terrible with faces. But I knew I recognized you from somewhere."

We talked for twenty minutes—about the sphinx, about Maya's obsession with Greek mythology, about how lightning storms made everything feel cinematic and kind of epic. He showed me his Spotify playlist (weirdly specific emo throwbacks, but also? A vibe). I showed him the vitamin gummy stuck to my back tooth, and he laughed so hard he choked on his punch.

"You're actually funny," he said, like he was surprised.

"Only on accident."

"No, for real." He stepped closer. "Hey, my friends are doing this thing tomorrow—going to that retro arcade downtown. You should come."

My heart did this embarrassing flutter thing. "Like... as a date-date?"

"If you want it to be." Jake's smile was shy, genuine. "I mean, I definitely want it to be."

Thunder rattled the windows, but all I could hear was the electricity crackling between us. Sometimes the best moments happen when you least expect them—when you're hiding in corners at parties, eating stolen vitamins, standing next to ridiculous cardboard sphinxes with boys you've been secretly crushing on for months.

"Yeah," I said. "I want that too."

And just like that—like lightning—everything changed.