Sphinx and the Salad Bar

Maya stared at the cafeteria tray like it contained radioactive waste instead of the spinach salad her mom had packed—complete with a note reminding her to take her vitamin D gummies after lunch. Because apparently fourteen-year-olds needed constant reminders about bone density.

"You look like you're attending a funeral," said Leo, sliding into the seat across from her with his usual chaotic energy. "Is that actual green matter? I thought your family operated exclusively on imported air and aesthetic vibes."

Maya pushed the spinach around with her fork. "My mom's going through her wellness phase again. She read some article about how brain fog is actually just malnutrition disguised as teenage existential crisis."

Leo snorted. "Bro, your brain fog is just from staying up until 3am scrolling through Sphinx's story."

Maya felt her face heat up. Sphinx—real name Sophie—was the junior who ran the school's anonymous confession account and somehow made wearing vintage band tees look like political statements. Maya had been lowkey stalking her social media since September, which Leo obviously knew and would obviously weaponize.

"Shut up," Maya muttered, finally taking a bite of spinach that tasted exactly like sadness. "At least I don't look like a zombie from gaming all night."

"That was ONE time," Leo protested, though Maya knew for a fact he'd literally fallen asleep in AP History twice that week. "Anyway, you know what you need?"

Maya raised an eyebrow.

"We should go to Jordan's party tonight. Live a little. Stop existing like you're waiting for permission to start your life." Leo leaned in, eyes bright with conspiracy. "I heard Sphinx is going."

Maya's stomach did that annoying flutter thing. "And since when do you care about—"

"Since I'm your best friend and you're pining like a sad houseplant." Leo grinned. "Come on. I'll cover for you with your parents. Tell them we're studying. Which we technically will be—studying the art of social manipulation."

Maya looked at her spinach, then at Leo, who was already mentally planning their outfit matching. "Fine. But you're explaining the zombie circles under my eyes tomorrow."

"Deal." Leo fist-bumped the air. "Now eat your vitamin-packed sadness salad. We've got a reputation to ruin."