Riddle of the Locker Sphinx

Maya felt like a **zombie** walking through the halls of Northwood High, three hours of sleep after studying until 2 AM for Mr. Henderson's bio test. Her phone buzzed in her pocket—probably another group chat blowing up about Jake's party that everyone was going to except her.

"Hey, Maya," came a voice behind her. Tyler. The **bull** of the sophomore class, massive linebacker build, somehow always blocking her locker. "Need some help with that combination?" His friends snickered nearby.

Her hands shook as she spun the dial. 34-12-27. Click. The locker door swung open to reveal her escape: her orange tabby cat Pancake's face taped to the inside door, weirdly photoshopped onto the Great **Sphinx** of Giza. Her sister's doing. A reminder that somewhere, someone found her awkwardness charming.

"Actually," Maya said, voice steadier than she felt, "I'm good. But thanks, Tyler." She slammed her locker shut and ducked into the cafeteria, stomach growling.

The lunch line moved at glacial speed. When she finally reached the trays, her nose wrinkled. Piled high next to the pizza was the most pathetic **spinach** she'd ever seen—limp, gray-green, and somehow still wet. "Fresh from the garden," the lunch lady lied.

Maya's phone lit up with a text: *u coming 2nite?* From Jake. THE Jake. The one whose hair fell across his forehead like something from a Netflix original. Her heart did that annoying flutter thing it did whenever she thought about him.

She typed: *idk maybe*

*ur cat pancake can come 2* Jake replied.

Maya stared at her screen. Did he know? Did someone tell him Pancake was her emotional support animal, her late-night study buddy, the only living thing that didn't make her feel like an imposter in her own life?

*how do u know about pancake????*

*ur sister posted it. sphinx cat. hilarious.*

Maya covered her mouth to hide her smile. The zombie feeling lifted. Maybe high school wasn't all bullies and bad cafeteria food and feeling like you're failing at being sixteen. Maybe sometimes—just sometimes—people saw the weird stuff about you and didn't run away.

She hit Jake back: *im in.*

Her phone buzzed again. *bring the cat*