Riddle of the Food Truck Sphinx

Maya's palms were sweating. Again. She wiped them on her apron for the third time, leaving dark streaks on the already-stained fabric. The lunch rush at The Green Machine food truck was chaos, and she was drowning in it.

"You good, Maya?" Liam called from the grill, flipping veggie burgers with practiced ease. Her best friend since sixth grade, now somehow her coworker and the only reason she hadn't quit yet.

"The spinach literally won't stop coming," Maya groaned, gesturing at the mountain of fresh greens awaiting prep. "Who eats this much spinach?"

"Health-conscious high schoolers," Liam deadpanned. "It's the new era, May. Get with it."

But that wasn't even the real problem. The real problem stood at the order window, peering at the menu like it was some kind of ancient sphinx guarding the secrets of the universe.

Jordan. The new junior with the leather jacket and the devastating smile who'd transferred in three weeks ago and somehow already knew everyone. Everyone except Maya.

Jordan stepped up to the counter, and Maya's brain short-circuited. She'd been low-key crushing since they'd made accidental eye contact in AP English, when Jordan had been reading Vonnegut and Maya had been pretending to read Vonnegut.

"What's good?" Jordan asked, and their voice was even better up close.

"Everything?" Maya squeaked. Then cleared her throat. "I mean, the Green Goddess is solid. It's got—"

"Spinach," Jordan finished, grinning. "I watched you prep it for like ten minutes. You're kinda intense about it."

Maya's face burned. "I'm thorough."

"I like thorough." Jordan leaned in closer. "Hey, I'm having people over Friday. My band's playing. You should come. Bring your friend."

Maya froze. Was this happening? Was THE Jordan actually inviting her to a party? To hear their band?

"Yeah?" Maya managed, her palms suddenly sweating for a completely different reason. "I mean, yeah. That sounds... that sounds cool."

"Cool." Jordan scribbled something on a napkin — a phone number — and slid it across the counter with their order. "Text me. For details. And so I don't have to yell my order through a window like a weirdo."

Liam appeared beside her as Jordan walked away, checking out the napkin like it was sacred text. "Did you just—"

"I think I just did." Maya couldn't stop smiling. "I think I just got invited to Jordan's party. To hear their band."

"Finally!" Liam pumped a fist in the air. "I've been watching you make heart-eyes at them for weeks. You're welcome, by the way."

"For what?"

"For not scheduling you during their shift." Liam winked. "I'm not just a pretty face, Maya Williams. I'm a tactical genius."

Maya laughed, actually laughed, and for the first time all day, her palms were dry. The spinach mountain didn't seem so overwhelming anymore.

Friday couldn't come fast enough.