The Sphinx at Homecoming

Maya's phone buzzed with another DM from the group chat. _Who's taking who to homecoming???_ She threw it onto her bed like it had personally offended her. Being fifteen was basically a 24/7 anxiety simulation.

"You're overthinking it again," said Leo, her golden retriever mix with soulful eyes. Okay, he didn't actually say that, but the way he rested his chin on her knee felt suspiciously judgmental. Leo was the only male in her life who didn't make everything weird.

Her phone lit up again. _Fox is going stag btw._ Fox, aka Ethan, the guy she'd been lowkey obsessed with since freshman year. The guy whose smile could fix her entire questionable mental health in 0.2 seconds. The guy who called her "May" because apparently three syllables was way too much effort.

Fox. She'd written it in her journal exactly forty-seven times this month. She was not proud.

The homecoming committee had transformed the gym into something resembling a discount prom, complete with an inexplicable ancient Egypt theme because—why not? Maya stood near the punch bowl, wearing a dress she'd spent three weeks stress-scrolling to find, feeling like a fraud. Everyone else seemed to know exactly who they were. She was still trying to figure out if she was the quiet art kid or the quiet band kid or just quiet.

Then she saw it: The papier-mâché sphinx hovering over the refreshments like the world's most awkward party guest. Its riddle seemed to taunt her: _What walks on four legs in the morning, two at noon, and three in evening?_Answer: Man. Also, her throughout this entire night.

"Hey May."

She spun around. There stood Fox, wearing a suit that was somehow both endearingly wrinkled and devastatingly attractive. He looked like he'd rather be literally anywhere else.

"Hey Ethan," she said, because for some reason his actual name felt huge in her mouth.

"This party is..."

"A lot?"

"I was gonna say tragic, but sure." His crooked grin appeared, and her brain short-circuited. "Wanna bail? There's a food truck down the street."

"Absolutely."

As they slipped out the side door, Maya caught one last look at the sphinx guarding its terrible punch bowl. It seemed to wink at her.

Outside, the air was cool and full of possibility. "So," Ethan said, hands in his pockets. "I've been meaning to ask you something."

"Yeah?" Her heart did something genuinely concerning.

"You drew that fox in my notebook last week, didn't you?"

Maya froze. She'd thought she was being subtle.

"It was really good," he continued. "You've got crazy talent. I was gonna say—would you want to help me with the art project for lit? Mr. Harrison says we need partners."

The sphinx's riddle echoed in her mind. The answer wasn't Man or stages of life or whatever deep metaphor their English teacher claimed. The answer was simpler: you start alone, you figure stuff out, and eventually you find your people. Maybe one of them has messy hair and calls you May and notices when you draw foxes in his notebook.

"Yeah," Maya said, and something in her chest unlocked. "I'd love that."

Leo was going to be so proud of her.