The Boy Who Talked to Stone

I was basically a zombie by third period AP Bio. Finals week at Northwood High does that to you—turns everyone into hollowed-out versions of themselves, shuffling through hallways with dark circles under our eyes, surviving on caffeine and desperation.

So when I saw Maya (former best friend, now full-on traitor) walking toward me with that fake-concerned expression, I did what any reasonable person would do. I started running.

Literally.

I ducked into the courtyard behind the art building, where nobody ever goes because it's "too retro," which apparently means it has actual plants and this weird Greek sculpture that some alum donated. A sphinx, wings spread, face frozen in this mysterious half-smile like it knew something about all of us.

"You're hiding too, huh?"

I jumped. Leo was sitting on the bench next to the sphinx, sketching in his notebook. New kid. Quiet. The kind of mysterious that makes everyone whisper because nobody actually knows anything about him.

"From Maya," I admitted, sliding to the ground. "She spread those screenshots everywhere."

Leo nodded like this made perfect sense. "The ones from your Instagram?"

My face burned. "Yeah. So now the whole school thinks I'm—"

"Awkward?" He shrugged. "We've all posted stuff we regret. Hers was worse."

I stared at him. "You saw?"

"Everyone saw. She had that meltdown in the cafeteria last month because her crush didn't RSVP to her party. That was... not her finest moment." Leo's eyes crinkled. "At least your screenshots were just you being weird about dogs. That's endearing, honestly."

A laugh escaped me. The first real one in days.

"You know," Leo said, gesturing at the stone sphinx beside us, "in the myth, she ate anyone who couldn't answer her riddle. Pretty terrifying friend, if you think about it."

"But Oedipus solved it," I pointed out.

"Yeah, and then he married his mom and gouged out his eyes." Leo's grin widened. "Maybe being a little awkward isn't so bad."

The bell rang, but neither of us moved.

"Want to skip fourth period?" I asked. "The sphinx won't tell."

Leo closed his notebook. "I was hoping you'd say that."

And for the first time that week, I didn't feel like a zombie anymore. I felt real. I felt like someone who might actually make a genuine friend—the kind who doesn't need to pass tests to prove you're worth knowing.