The Sphinx of sophomore year

Maya pressed her back against the ceramic tiles of the girls' bathroom, heart hammering like she'd just finished a 5K. She'd overheard things—things that could wreck friendships, ruin reputations, basically detonate the entire social hierarchy of sophomore year.

"You spy on people now?" Chloe's voice cut through her spiral.

Maya jumped. Chloe leaned against the sink, arms crossed, looking like she'd just walked out of a TikTok tutorial. Perfect hair. Perfect makeup. Perfectly judgmental expression.

"I wasn't spying! I was... conducting research."

"Research?" Chloe raised an eyebrow. "For what? Your dissertation on why Jessica's boyfriend was texting his ex under the bleachers during pep rally?"

Maya groaned. "Okay, first of all, gross. Second, I was just in the wrong place at the wrong time. Again."

This kept happening. Maya had become an accidental information vacuum, sucking up secrets she never wanted to know. It was like the universe had decided she needed to be everyone's confession booth, but without the privacy and with significantly more awkward encounters in hallways.

"You need to talk to The Sphinx," Chloe said, checking her reflection in the mirror.

"The who?"

"The Sphinx." Chloe applied lip gloss like it was a sacrament. "You know, that girl who sits by herself at lunch, reading actual books instead of staring at her phone? The one everyone says can solve any problem?"

Maya knew exactly who she meant. Luna. The girl who'd transferred mid-semester and somehow managed to be simultaneously invisible and fascinating. People whispered about her like she was some kind of oracle, but Maya had barely spoken two words to her.

"Why would Luna help me?"

"Because," Chloe said, like it was obvious, "you're drowning in other people's drama, and apparently The Sphinx specializes in teaching people how to mind their own business. Also, I'm pretty sure she's the only person who hasn't asked me about my parents' divorce in three months."

Something about that made Maya's throat tight.

"Fine," Maya said. "But if this goes south, I'm telling everyone you still sleep with a stuffed turtle."

Chloe's eyes went wide. "How did you—"

"I have my sources."

Maya found Luna at their usual spot the next day, surrounded by a moat of empty chairs. The Sphinx of sophomore year, in the flesh, reading what looked like a philosophy book and occasionally making notes in the margins.

"Hey," Maya said, sliding into the seat across from her.

Luna looked up, dark eyes unreadable. "You're the one who heard about Tyler and Jessica."

Maya's stomach dropped. "Does everyone know?"

"No." Luna closed her book. "But you have a very loud face."

"A what?"

"Loud face. You wear everything you're thinking like it's printed across your forehead. It's exhausting just looking at you."

Maya started to protest, then stopped. Because wasn't that exactly what Chloe had said? And her mom? And basically everyone who'd ever known her?

"So," Luna continued, "you want me to teach you how to not be a walking billboard for teenage drama?"

"Is that what you do?"

"I do many things." Luna's mouth quirked. "Mostly I read books and avoid small talk. But yes, I've been known to help people learn how to keep their own counsel."

"Why?"

"Because secrets are currency, and most people are broke." Luna gestured to the cafeteria around them. "Everyone here is trading information they shouldn't have, hoping it'll buy them status or safety or five minutes of feeling powerful. It's exhausting."

Something about the way she said it made Maya think Luna used to be exactly like her. Before she became The Sphinx.

"Okay," Maya said. "Teach me."

Luna studied her for a long moment. "First lesson: sometimes the best way to stop being a spy in your own life is to stop watching everyone else's. Start with that, and we'll see where it goes."

Maya nodded, something in her chest loosening for the first time in months.

"Deal."

She didn't know if Luna could actually help her navigate the minefield of sophomore year without detonating everything she'd accidentally learned. But for the first time since she'd become an accidental receptacle for everyone's secrets, Maya thought maybe—just maybe—she could figure out how to be a friend to herself first.