The Sphinx in Section 204

Jordan's orange jersey stood out like a beacon in the sea of navy blue at the baseball stadium. First varsity game, first time sitting with the popular kids, first time regretting that extra-large bag of **spinach** artichoke dip from the concession stand.

"You got a little..." Maya whispered, gesturing vaguely at her own teeth.

Jordan's heart stopped. He'd been talking to Lexa—the actual Lexa, who'd barely acknowledged his existence since sixth grade—with a mouthful of green debris. Classic Jordan move. He grabbed his **orange** Gatorade, chugged half of it, and swished like his life depended on it.

Lexa just sat there, unreadable as a **sphinx**, her expression giving away absolutely nothing. Was she amused? Disgusted? Both? She was wearing that vintage baseball cap pulled low, eyes fixed on the field, but Jordan swore he saw her mouth twitch.

"So," Lexa said, turning toward him suddenly, "you coming to the party after?"

Jordan nearly choked on his Gatorade. "Wait, really?"

"Yeah." A genuine smile cracked through her sphinx-like exterior. "You're actually funny when you're not trying so hard. Plus, you're the only person who actually likes the spinach dip."

The baseball game faded into background noise. Jordan's orange jersey didn't feel so embarrassing anymore. Sometimes the most awkward moments—the ones that made you want to disappear into the stadium seats—were exactly what made people notice you. Not because you were perfect, but because you were real.

"I'm in," Jordan said, finally relaxing. "But I'm brushing my teeth first."

Lexa laughed, and it was the best sound Jordan had heard all day.