Sphinxes Don't Swim

The pool water shimmered like liquid diamonds under the July sun, or maybe that was just my anxiety making everything sparkle way too intensely.

"Yo, Maya! You coming in or what?" Tyler called from the diving board, his perfect abs glistening in a way that should be illegal.

I wanted to be swimming. I really did. But my feet were superglued to the concrete. Sarah's backyard looked like something out of Pinterest, complete with this ancient-looking sphinx statue guarding the garden beds. Its stone eyes seemed to be judging my outfit choice.

I'd spent three hours curling my hair and picking this swimsuit. Now I just felt like a fraud.

"Hold up," I muttered, drifting toward the sphinx like it could offer life advice. "Riddle me this," I whispered to it. "How does the socially awkward girl survive the party of the year?"

The sphinx said nothing. Rude.

Then I heard it—a tiny meow from behind the hydrangeas. A tabby cat, thin as a paperclip, stared at me with emerald eyes. I knelt down, and it immediately head-butted my hand.

"Well, at least someone likes me," I said, scratching behind its ears.

My stomach growled. I'd barely eaten because nerves. I made my way to the snack table, which had literally everything except something decent. Loads of chips, cookies, a veggie tray with spinach that looked like it had seen better days.

I grabbed some spinach—because health goals or whatever—and the cat followed, weaving around my ankles like it owned the place.

Tyler cannonballed into the pool, creating a mini tsunami. Everyone cheered. I stood there, spinach in hand, cat at my feet, feeling utterly ridiculous.

Then Sarah, who'd been mysterious to me all year, floated over. She saw the cat and smiled. "Oh, that's Figaro. He's my neighbor's cat, always crashes parties." She gestured to the sphinx. "And that statue? My dad bought it at a garage sale. We call it Kevin."

"Kevin the sphinx," I said, surprised by a laugh escaping my throat.

"Exactly." Sarah pushed wet hair from her face. "Hey, you coming in? The water's actually not that cold."

I looked at the cat. Figaro meowed, as if to say "do it already."

I set down the spinach, took a breath, and walked toward the pool.

"Yeah," I said. "Yeah, I think I am."

The water hit me like a shock, but in a good way. Like, maybe high school wouldn't be so terrifying after all.

Kevin the sphinx definitely approved.