The Sphinx of 7-Eleven

Maya's **hat** kept sliding down over her eyes, which was honestly fine by her. Anything to avoid making eye contact with Jordan from third period history. She was currently hiding behind a pyramid of Red Bull cans at her 7-Eleven job, dying inside.

"Hey, you got a charger?" Jordan asked. Of course they were here. The universe had a personal vendetta against her social anxiety.

"Behind the counter," Maya squeaked. "There's like, a whole basket of cables."

"Cool, thanks. You're Maya, right? From Mr. Henderson's class?"

"Yeah. Hi. Hello." Maya's face burned. Why was conversational fluency so hard?

Jordan's friend Skylar appeared behind them, holding up a bottle of orange pills. "These are literally just **vitamin** C supplements but they're shaped like dinosaurs. I'm obsessed."

"Anyway," Jordan continued, "we're doing that group project on Ancient Egypt, and I keep thinking about how the Great **Sphinx** is literally just a lion with a human head. Like, who looked at a lion and said, 'You know what this needs? A face transplant.'"

Maya actually laughed. "Honestly, same energy as my cat."

"Wait, you have a cat?" Jordan's eyes lit up. "Show me pictures. Right now."

"Bold of you to assume I don't have 472 photos on my phone."

And just like that, they were talking. Really talking. About cats (Maya's was named Bagel, obviously), about how school felt like a glitched simulation, about Jordan's obsession with conspiracy theories involving the government and **pyramid** schemes.

"You're actually funny," Jordan said.

"I'm chronically online and emotionally damaged," Maya shrugged. "It's a whole vibe."

"Can I get your number? For the project. And maybe for... not the project."

Maya's heart did that thing where it forgot how to rhythm. "Yeah. Absolutely. Both of those things."

She adjusted her hat, finally pushing it back. Maybe 7-Eleven wasn't so bad. Maybe she wasn't so bad at this. Sometimes growth happened in the weirdest places—between the energy drinks and the dinosaur vitamins, in the fluorescent glow of a corner store at 7 PM.

"Your cat is majestic," Jordan texted her later that night.

Maya grinned at her phone. The sphinx had nothing on her. She was figuring out this whole human thing, one awkward conversation at a time.