The Sphinx of Room 204

Maya stood by the **water** fountain, pretending to check her phone while actually just refreshing Instagram for the third time in two minutes. It was only the second week of sophomore year, and she was already exhausted. The zombie life was real—staying up until 2 AM scrolling through TikTok will do that to you.

"Hey, Maya!"

She jumped. It was Tyler, leaning against his locker like he owned the hallway. His **dog**, Buster, was probably at home destroying another pair of sneakers. Tyler's family fostered rescue dogs, and somehow this made him infinitely more attractive to half the grade.

"You going to Chloe's party tonight?" he asked, spinning a basketball on his finger.

"Maybe?" Maya lied. She hadn't been invited, but admitting that would be social suicide.

"Cool. I'll see you there." He winked. Actually winked.

Maya's face burned. She'd need to find something to wear. Her favorite **orange** hoodie was probably not party material, even if it was vintage and ironically cool.

At lunch, she spotted Emma—aka the Sphinx of Room 204. Emma never spoke, always wore oversized jackets, and had this intense gaze that made you feel like she knew all your secrets. She sat alone at a table in the corner, reading what looked like a philosophy book.

Maya had been obsessed with Emma's mysterious vibe since last year. Today, she decided to actually do something about it.

"Is this seat taken?"

Emma looked up, eyebrows raised.

"It's a free country."

"I'm Maya."

"Emma." She went back to her book.

Okay, so conversation wasn't her strength. But Maya noticed Emma was reading The Myth of Sisyphus.

"Camus? We read excerpts in English last year."

Emma's head snapped up. "You actually paid attention?"

"I mean, yeah. The whole absurdity thing hit different during freshman year."

A tiny smile cracked Emma's face. It was like watching the Sphinx finally speak.

"You know," Emma said, "Chloe's parties are always kind of a disaster. Last year, someone puked in her mom's prize-winning hydrangeas."

Maya laughed. "I wasn't actually invited. I just told Tyler I might go because... I don't know. It seemed like the right thing to say."

"Same," Emma admitted. "Marcus asked me this morning. I said I had to walk my... theoretical dog."

They locked eyes. Then they were both laughing, hard, Maya's soda nearly coming out her nose.

"Hey," Emma said, "want to come over instead? We can order pizza and complain about how everyone expects us to be normal."

"Honestly? That sounds way better than trying to impress Tyler with my nonexistent social skills."

"The Sphinx has spoken," Emma said with a grin. "And you're invited. For real this time."