Riddles of the Hairless Sphinx

The worst thing about eighth grade isn't the homework or the awkward locker combinations or even the way your voice cracks at the worst possible moments. It's the way your brain decides to humiliate you in slow motion, like a cursed movie you can't pause.

I was having a decent enough morning until third period, when I caught Jordan staring at me across the cafeteria. Actually, staring might be generous. More like grimacing at the piece of **spinach** wedged between my front teeth, visible from space apparently. I'd spent twenty minutes on my hair that morning—another failed attempt at bangs that now looked more like injured porcupine quills—so this was just the cherry on top.

"You got something," Liam whispered, sliding into the seat across from me. He gestured vaguely at his own teeth. But then his eyes lit up. "Dude, your **hat**. You actually wore it."

I tugged the brim of my dad's old snapback lower, grateful for the coverage. My mom had brought home her latest rescue case yesterday—a **sphinx** cat she'd named Cleo, all wrinkly and alien-looking, like something that shouldn't exist without a warning label. The cat had spent all night yowling outside my door like a furry demon. I'd slept through my alarm, chopped my own bangs in a panic, and now here we were.

"My **dog** won't even go near it," I grumbled. "Buster spent the night growling at the bedroom door like he was protecting us from an actual monster."

Liam snorted. "Man's best friend knows evil when he sees it."

"It's just a cat, Liam."

"A cat that looks like it came here to ask us riddles and steal our souls."

We both laughed, but then Jordan walked past. I froze, spinach and all, waiting for whatever happened next. She paused at our table.

"Cool hat," she said, and kept walking.

Liam raised his eyebrows. I could feel my face burning. But somewhere under the embarrassment, under the spinach shame and the bad haircut and the alien cat currently probably dismantling my bedroom, something small and okay opened up in my chest.

"She thinks it's cool," I whispered.

"Bro," Liam said. "She definitely thinks you're cool. But maybe, like, check your teeth first?"

I grinned, spinach be damned. Some days, you take your wins where you can find them.