Sphinx by the Pool

Maya's stomach did backflips as she stood at the edge of the pool, clutching her towel like a lifeline. The Scotts' annual summer bash. Everyone who was anyone from Jefferson High would be here, including Tyler, who'd been in her AP Bio class since September and still didn't know her name.

"Yo, Maya! You coming in or what?" Jenna yelled from the water, splashing enough to send droplets onto Maya's bare legs. Jenna, who'd been Maya's best friend since seventh grade, back before friendships got complicated and people started sorting themselves into invisible hierarchies.

"Yeah, just... yeah." Maya tossed her towel onto a lounge chair and slipped into the water, grateful for the instant camouflage. The pool was packed — a writhing mass of noodles and inflatables and way too much AXE body spray.

Then she saw it: an enormous golden sphinx pool float, rising from the water like some ancient Egyptian god's ironic joke. Someone had Sharpied "THE ORACLE" across its forehead, and a group of seniors from the football team had claimed it as their throne.

"Wisdom costs five bucks," the quarterback announced, striking a pose from the sphinx's back. "No refunds."

Maya rolled her eyes so hard it actually hurt. This was exactly why she hated parties. Everyone performing, everyone watching, and her stuck somewhere in the middle, neither cool enough to perform nor invisible enough to disappear.

That's when Buster happened.

The Scotts' elderly golden retriever, usually too arthritic to move beyond his bed by the sliding door, had apparently decided today was the day he'd reclaim his youth. He burst from the house like a furry missile, barking joyfully, and launched himself straight at THE ORACLE.

Chaos erupted. The sphinx deflated with a sad hissing sound as ten teenagers scrambled in every direction. Someone screamed. Maya found herself shoulder-deep in sudden calm as the chaos moved toward the shallow end.

Then she locked eyes with Tyler, who'd somehow ended up next to her, dripping wet and laughing so hard he was snorting.

"Did you see that?" he gasped. "Buster just took down a monument to their egos."

Maya surprised herself by laughing back, really laughing, not the polite fake-laugh she'd been perfecting all year. "Epic. Total sphinx-slaying."

"Tyler." He held out a hand like he was introducing himself properly. Which he kind of was.

"Maya." She took it, his palm warm and wet against hers, and something in her chest unstuck, just a little. Sometimes the universe — or a very good dog — had to break everything apart before you could find where you belonged.