The Cat Who Knew Everything

Maya's Aunt Sheila was, to put it gently, a lot. She had a 'side hustle' that was definitely a pyramid scheme, sold essential oils that supposedly cured everything from acne to existential dread, and now, apparently, she'd acquired a sphynx cat.

"His name is Pharaoh and he's basically an emotional support animal," Sheila announced, dumping a hairless, wrinkly creature into Maya's arms. "I need you to watch him this weekend. I'm doing a leadership retreat in Tahoe."

Maya's weekend plans—watching Netflix and avoiding her group chat after the incident with Tyler—evaporated.

Pharaoh was not what Maya expected. For a naked cat who looked like a wrinkly potato, he had weird amounts of charisma. He followed her everywhere, making these soft chirping sounds like a confused pigeon. When she did homework, he sprawled across her notebook like a warm, fuzzy obstacle.

Saturday night, Maya's phone buzzed. Her friend Jenna had posted a photo at Chloe's party—the party Maya definitely wasn't invited to after Tyler's girlfriend Maya had allegedly been "talking shit."

"Worst friend ever," someone had commented.

Maya stared at her phone until her eyes burned. Pharaoh butted his head against her hand, demanding attention. His weird naked body was surprisingly soft, like warm peach fuzz.

"You don't care about drama, do you?" Maya muttered. "You're just a cat. A very ugly, very naked cat who thinks he's royalty."

Pharaoh blinked slowly, then licked her thumb with a tongue like sandpaper.

Sunday brought an unexpected development: Chloe herself showed up at Maya's door. Her eyes were red, her makeup smudged. "Tyler posted our private texts. Everyone's seen them."

Maya's stomach dropped. "The ones where you said he was being clingy?"

Chloe nodded, then spotted Pharaoh sunning himself in the windowsill like a wrinkly god. "Is that... a cat?"

"He's a sphynx. He's judgmental but emotionally supportive."

Chloe actually laughed. "I miss this. Just hanging out. Everything got so complicated."

They sat on Maya's bed while Pharaoh supervised like a tiny, hairless chaperone. Chloe admitted she'd only posted that stuff about Maya because she was stressed about college apps. Maya admitted she'd been talking to Tyler—just as a friend—because Chloe had been distant.

"I'm sorry," Chloe said. "About everything."

"Me too."

By the time Aunt Sheila returned, Pharaoh had somehow become the catalyst for an actual human conversation. As Sheila handed Maya a small envelope of cash—"For your trouble"—she winked. "You know, these opportunities I'm offering you, this business structure, people call it a pyramid scheme, but it's really about building from the ground up. Like a pyramid."

Maya couldn't help it. She laughed. "Aunt Sheila, that is literally what a pyramid scheme is."

But as she watched Pharaoh curl around Chloe's hand, she thought maybe some weird, unexpected things were worth keeping. Even wrinkly cats. Even messy friendships. Especially the ones that could survive being absolutely terrible at being good.