Sphinxes and Spinach Wedges

Maya's cat decided the exact moment her crush walked by was the perfect time to knock her ancient Egypt project off the desk. The pyramid she'd spent three days constructing shattered into approximately eight million pieces across her freshman English floor.

"Mr. Whiskers, NO!" she shrieked, lunging for the scattered cardboard pieces. Lucas paused in the doorway, eyebrows raised, looking somehow more gorgeous and unbothered than any human had a right to be. The cat, naturally, chose that moment to sprint between Maya's legs, sending her face-first toward the disaster.

She caught herself on her desk, but not before Lucas got a full view of her dignity in freefall.

"Smooth," he said, and Maya wanted to dissolve into the floorboards. Instead she straightened up, ignoring how her face burned like she'd been sunbathing with SPF zero.

"It's fine. Everything's fine. My cat's just... an agent of chaos."

"Cool cat," Lucas said, because apparently he was also capable of speech when Maya was dying inside. "I like the mustache."

She'd forgotten the spinach wedge from lunch was still visible. Of course.

But instead of spiraling into another crisis, Maya thought about her mom's advice from that morning: *Sometimes you just gotta lean into the cringe.*

So she shrugged. "It's my statement piece. Bold. Revolutionary."

Lucas laughed—actually laughed—and Maya felt something in her chest do a little flip that had nothing to do with the impending social doom.

"Good," he said. "Because you've got something in your teeth, and I was trying to figure out how to tell you without making it weird."

She groaned. "Of course I do. Thanks, Lucas. Really."

"No problem. Hey, can I help you with the pyramid? I actually kind of liked studying ancient Egypt."

They spent the next twenty minutes reconstructing her project while Mr. Whiskers watched judgmentally from the windowsill. And if Maya's heart did something suspiciously like gymnastics every time Lucas accidentally brushed her hand with his while passing a glue stick, that was information for Future Maya to process.

Present Maya was just relieved she'd survived the most embarrassing afternoon of her life with her dignity mostly intact and a gorgeous boy's number in her phone.

Sometimes the universe worked in mysterious ways. Or maybe her cat was just a secret genius.