Orange Headphones and Empty Eyes

I'd been functioning on autopilot for three days—exam week will do that to you. Basically a zombie moving through the hallways, surviving on caffeine and vibes. My best friend Tiara kept having to literally shake me back to reality whenever I spaced out staring at nothing.

Then there was him. The sphinx of sophomore year.

Lucas always sat by the emergency exit in third period English, wearing those giant orange headphones that clamped over his ears like a protective shell. He never spoke to anyone, never participated in class discussions, never took notes. Just sat there with this unreadable expression, like he knew something none of us did. Like he was patiently waiting for us to figure out his riddle.

I'd been low-key spying on him since October. Not in a creepy way, just—noticed stuff. Like how he'd tap his left knee three times whenever the teacher mentioned poetry. How he doodled the same geometric patterns in the margins of whatever book he was supposed to be reading. How his fingers moved like he was playing an invisible piano whenever someone's phone went off.

Theories circulated. Some said he was dealing with family stuff. Others claimed he was just too cool for regular school social dynamics. Someone even started a rumor that he was secretly a famous gamer streaming under an alias.

"You're obsessed," Tiara said when she caught me watching him again at lunch. "Just talk to him."

"I'm not obsessed," I said, which was a lie. "I'm just... curious."

"Then go be curious. instead of spying from across the cafeteria like a weirdo."

So I did. I marched over there, heart doing something chaotic in my chest, and sat down opposite him. He didn't react. Just kept looking at some worn paperback.

"Hey," I said.

Nothing. The sphinx remained silent.

"Your headphones," I tried. "They're orange. I like that."

Finally, his eyes shifted toward me. Not exactly friendly, not exactly hostile. Just assessing.

"They were my brother's," he said, voice raspy like he hadn't used it in days. "He's in college now. Left them behind."

"Oh," I said, suddenly feeling like I'd intruded on something private. "Cool."

"You've been watching me," he said. Not accusing. Just stating it.

My face burned. "I—yeah. Sorry. You're just... mysterious."

The sphinx almost smiled. "I'm not mysterious. I'm just tired. These tests are killing me."

"Same," I said, and something shifted. "I've been a zombie all week."

"Zombie squad," he said, finally actually smiling. "I'm Lucas, by the way."

"Maya," I said. And just like that, the sphinx had a name. The mystery wasn't gone—if anything, it was deeper now, because I wanted to know everything—but the distance was smaller. The orange headphones were still there, but they weren't a wall anymore. They were just headphones.

"Want to study for history?" he asked. "Together?"

"Absolutely," I said. "Zombies gotta stick together."

I didn't feel like a zombie anymore.