The Sphinx of Room 204

My palms were sweating. Like, actually gross-amounts of sweating, which was exactly why I kept them shoved deep in my hoodie pockets as I leaned against the back wall of Tyler's house party.

"You look like you're mentally calculating your escape route," said a voice from beside me.

I jumped. Okay, I didn't literally jump, but internally? I was RUNNING. This girl with electric-blue hair and way too much confidence was suddenly in my personal space, holding a solo cup like it was a weapon.

"I'm literally calculating my escape route," I admitted, because something about her grin made me forget my usual policy of saying absolutely nothing to absolutely anyone.

"Maya," she said. "And you're here because Tyler's mom made him invite the whole track team, but you're not actually a party person."

"How—"

"I observe. Also, you're wearing running shoes to a house party. Rookie move, but honestly, valid."

She sat down cross-legged on the floor like this was a normal thing people did at parties, and patted the carpet beside her. Against my better judgment—which had been doing a surprisingly terrible job all night—I sat.

"So here's the thing," Maya said, pulling something from her pocket. A small ceramic sphinx figurine. Probably stolen from someone's mom's curio cabinet. "I found this on the snack table. It feels important. I'm calling it the Party Sphinx."

"Okay..."

"The Party Sphinx demands tribute," she announced, dramatically. "Or, like, actual conversation. Your choice. But you have to answer the riddle."

"There's a riddle?"

"What's the one thing you want everyone here to know about you, but would literally rather die than actually say out loud?"

The question hit like LIGHTNING—sudden, illuminating, terrifying. Outside, actual thunder rattled the windows, because apparently the weather believed in dramatic timing.

I looked at my palm, tracing the lifeline with my thumb like my grandma taught me when I was little and anxious about everything.

"That I don't know who I'm supposed to be yet," I whispered. "Like, everyone's got their thing—jock, theater kid, whatever—and I'm just... still figuring it out."

Maya nodded, like this was the most normal thing in the world. "The Party Sphinx accepts your answer. Also, same. I dyed my hair blue because I thought it would make me seem more interesting, but mostly I just read Wikipedia articles about ancient Egypt and stress about college applications."

We sat there for twenty minutes while the party raged around us. She told me about her collection of ceramic figurines. I told her about my weird obsession with weather patterns. She didn't make fun of me. Not once.

"You know what's funny?" Maya said, as my mom's headlights swept across the living room windows. "We came here running away from ourselves, but I think I might've actually found something."

"Me too," I said, and realized I meant it.

"Friend," she stated, holding out her palm.

"Friend," I agreed, high-fiving her for some reason, but honestly? It was perfect.

My palms weren't sweating anymore.