Lightning in the Bathroom Mirror

Maya's hair refused to cooperate. The curls sprang in every direction except the right one, defying gravity, common decency, and the expensive mousse her sister swore by. She glared at her reflection. The Winter Formal was in three hours, and her hair looked like she'd stuck her finger in an electrical socket. Again.

Her phone buzzed. Jordan.

"u coming?"

Maya's stomach did that thing it always did when he texted—the thing that felt like lightning, sudden and electric and terrifying. Jordan, with his crooked smile and his tendency to call everyone "bro" unironically. Jordan, who'd somehow become her sphinx this past semester, presenting riddles she couldn't solve: Why did he keep choosing her as his lab partner? Why did he remember her coffee order? What did it mean that he'd asked if she was going to the formal four days ago?

"working on hair crisis," she typed back. "might skip."

"no way. ur hair always looks fine. dont overthink it."

Maya stared at the words. Her hair always looked fine? Since when was Jordan paying attention to her hair? Since when was Jordan the person whose opinion suddenly mattered more than her own?

Her mom appeared in the doorway, leaning against the frame. "You okay, mija?"

"My hair won't behave."

"So wear it messy. It looks good messy. You look like you."

That was the problem, though. Looking like herself had never felt like enough. Not at her old school, where her curls made her stand out in all the wrong ways. Not here, where the girls with perfect waves and perfect skin seemed to glide through hallways like they'd been given instructions Maya had missed.

She sprayed her hair with water. Watched the curls relax into something softer. Something that looked, annoyingly, kind of pretty.

Her phone buzzed again. Jordan had sent a photo of himself wearing a slightly crooked tie. The caption: "im wearing a tie. this is serious."

Maya laughed. The lightning feeling returned, warmer this time.

Maybe the riddle wasn't something she solved alone.

Maybe, just maybe, she was exactly the kind of sphinx Jordan wanted to figure out too.