The Sphinx by the Pool

Maya gripped her red Solo cup so hard the plastic crinkled. House parties weren't exactly her vibe, but when your best friend literally drags you out of your room because "we need to LIVE, Maya," you show up.

The pool area was already packed — seniors doing cannonballs, some juniors vaping behind the **palm** tree that looked way too fake, couples making out on patio furniture. Maya hovered near the snack table, calculating exactly how long she needed to stay before she could peace out without Jasmine noticing.

Then she saw it.

In the corner of the yard, someone had arranged speakers into a perfect **pyramid**, like they were trying to summon something ancient with bass-heavy trap music. And sitting on top of the highest speaker was a cat.

Not a regular cat. A hairless cat, wrinkly and alien-looking, watching the chaos with the judgment of a thousand generations.

"That's Cleopatra," said a voice behind her.

Maya jumped. A guy in a hoodie that had definitely seen better days was standing there, holding two cups of what smelled like straight pineapple juice. "She's a **sphinx**. My sister's cat. She escaped again."

"Your sister has an ancient Egyptian deity as a pet," Maya said, then immediately regretted how nerdy that sounded.

"Basically." He grinned, revealing slightly crooked teeth. "I'm Leo, by the way. As in, not the constellation."

"Maya. As in, the civilization that vanished."

"Dope." Leo set down the extra cup. "You want to meet the oracle of the party?"

Cleo — the cat, not the ancient queen — jumped down from her speaker throne and rubbed against Maya's leg. Her skin was surprisingly soft, like warm peach fuzz.

"She likes you," Leo said. "She usually hisses at everyone. She's picky about her humans."

They ended up spending the next hour by the **pool**, toes in the water, watching people be embarrassing and dissecting everyone's trauma. Leo told stories about his weird family. Maya confessed that she secretly loved creating conspiracy theories about their classmates.

"Wait," Leo said, eyes lighting up. "Are you the one who started the rumor that Mr. Henderson is a retired assassin?"

"That was ONE TIME. And it was surprisingly plausible."

"You're iconic." He checked his phone and winced. "I have to help my sister drag Cleo back inside before she starts a fight with the dog. But..." He pulled out his phone. "You should definitely send me your greatest conspiracy theories. I have ideas about the lunch lady."

Maya's chest did that embarrassing flutter thing. "Yeah. Totally."

She walked home with chlorine-scented feet, new contact in her phone, and the realization that sometimes the best moments happened when you stopped trying so hard to fit the mold and just... existed.