The Girl Who Knew Everything

Maya's dad called her the Sphinx of 7th period. "Riddle me this," he'd joke, "what teenager knows everything but speaks nothing?" She hated it. But he wasn't wrong.

At lunch, Naomi slid into the booth, eyes bright. "Did you see?" She shoved her iPhone toward Maya's face. "Three thousand views. My vitamin smoothie video is POGGING."

Maya scrolled past comments—drainers, mostly. Some girl calling Naomi's glow-up "forced." Another saying the vitamin content was giving wellness-sis.

"They're just jealous," Maya said. But she didn't meet Naomi's eyes.

The truth sat heavy in her stomach like the vitamins Naomi choked down every morning. Maya had seen the comment section. She'd seen what people were saying about Naomi's sudden brand deal—how her friend had basically become a walking ad for supplements that didn't even work.

And Maya hadn't said anything.

That night, Maya's phone pinged. Naomi's Discord server: "WHO TOLD??" Then a screenshot—Maya's anonymous account, commenting something real. Something genuine about Naomi's actual art, not the sponsored content.

Maya's heart hammered. Her Sphinx face cracked.

She typed: "it was me"

Then deleted. Typed again. Sent.

Naomi's typing bubble appeared. And appeared. Finally: "I knew. I just needed you to say it."

Maya blinked. "What?"

"We're both playing roles, Maya. You're the mysterious bestie who never calls out my bullshit. I'm the girl who sold out for a vitamin company check. But I've been waiting for you to actually BE my friend again. Not just—watch."

Maya stared at her screen. All this time, she'd thought she was protecting Naomi. Being the good friend by staying silent. But real friendship wasn't about swallowing secrets like daily vitamins. It was about speaking up.

"I miss your art," Maya typed. "Not the aesthetic crap. The REAL stuff."

Naomi sent back: "I'll post the charcoal sketches tonight. No filter. No brand deal. Just me."

"Riddle me this," Maya whispered to her ceiling, smile spreading across her face. "What happens when two friends finally stop pretending?"

The Sphinx had nothing on them.