Orange Hat Sphinx

My hair was a mess—thanks, humidity—so I threw on the orange beanie my grandma gave me last Christmas. The one she swore was 'retro-chic.' It was neon bright. It screamed notice-me, which was exactly what I didn't want to do at Taylor's party.

I'd been crushing on Taylor since seventh period English, when they'd argued with Mr. Henderson about symbolism in ways that made my brain feel like fireworks. Now here I was, invited to an actual high school party, feeling like I'd stumbled onto the wrong movie set.

The playlist blasted something bass-heavy that rattled the windows. Someone shouted about something being 'lowkey fire' while another person complained about their situationship being 'giving major ick energy.' I hugged the wall, nursing a flat soda, wondering how everyone else seemed to know the choreography of being cool while I was still reading the instructions.

Then I saw it.

In the corner of the basement, beneath a flickering LED strip, was a sphinx.

Okay, not a REAL sphinx. It was this life-sized cardboard cutout someone's older brother must've swiped from an academic conference or something. It had Taylor's dad's face taped over the actual sphinx face. Someone had drawn sunglasses on it with Sharpie. It was objectively unhinged.

I was halfway across the room, about to say something smooth like 'nice sphinx, very legit,' when Taylor appeared beside me.

'Family heirloom,' they said, deadpan. 'My dad's PhD thesis defense was basically him explaining why ancient riddles are more culturally significant than TikTok.' They caught my eye. 'I mean, he wasn't wrong, but also, have you seen my face taped to a mythical creature before?'

I laughed. I actually laughed.

'The orange hat's working for you,' Taylor said. 'It's giving autumnal chaos energy.'

'Autumnal chaos,' I repeated. 'That's... that's the vibe I was going for. Obviously.'

The bass thrummed. Someone nearby was talking about 'down bad' moments and 'red flags' and 'main character energy' and all the other words we'd borrowed from the internet and given new meanings.

'Hey,' Taylor said, suddenly serious. 'You want to get out of here? There's this spot down by the creek. No sphinxes, I promise.'

I looked at the cardboard sphinx with its dad-face and Sharpie sunglasses. I thought about running away from parties and conversations and all the terrifying possibilities of being seen.

Then I thought about Taylor's smile earlier in English, talking about symbolism like it was something that mattered.

'Yeah,' I said. 'Let's go.'

The orange beanie stayed on. It wasn't so bad after all.