The Party Crasher's Guide to Existential Dread

Maya's vintage **fox**-patterned crop top felt like a cry for help as she hovered near the snack table at Jessica's house party. The bass from the living room's Bluetooth speaker pumped through a tangle of visible **cable**, creating the kind of chaos that only social anxiety could make worse.

"Hey, cool hat," said someone behind her.

Maya turned to see Jake—the guy she'd been low-key crushing on since seventh grade—pointing at her beanie. "Oh, yeah. Thanks. It's basically my emotional support blanket at this point."

"Same," Jake said, gesturing toward the fish tank against the wall. "I've been staring at that **goldfish** for like twenty minutes. Its life seems way more chill than mine right now."

Maya laughed, surprising herself. The goldfish did look ridiculously zen, just floating there like it had everything figured out. Meanwhile, she was overthinking every interaction like her life depended on it.

"Are you good at riddles?" Jake asked suddenly.

"Depends. Are we talking 'what has legs but cannot walk' level or actual brain teasers?"

He pulled out his phone, the screen cracked in exactly the way that made him look effortlessly cool. "There's this whole riddle corner in the basement. Some freshman set it up like a mini escape room. There's literally a cardboard **sphinx** head asking questions. It's weirdly elaborate."

"A cardboard sphinx?" Maya raised an eyebrow. "That sounds suspiciously like something I'd accidentally make uncomfortable."

"Exactly why I need backup. You down?"

The goldfish continued its philosophical floating, utterly indifferent to teenage awkwardness. Maya felt something shift—maybe it was the way Jake's eyes crinkled when he smiled, or maybe it was just the realization that everyone else was faking it too.

"Lead the way," she said. "But if your cardboard sphinx asks me about my life plans, I'm booking it."

"Deal."

As they navigated toward the basement stairs, Maya's fox top suddenly felt less like a cry for help and more like armor. Sometimes the best nights aren't the ones where everything goes perfectly—they're the ones where you find someone else who's just as confused as you are, and decide to figure it out together.