The Sphinx of Summer

Maya's palms were sweating as she clutched the red solo cup. Her best friend Chloe had dragged her to Tyler's end-of-summer blowout, but Maya felt like she was carrying around a giant neon sign that said I DON'T BELONG HERE.

"You're literally vibrating," Chloe whispered, bumping her shoulder. "Just eat something."

She gestured toward the table where someone's mom had obviously gone overboard. There was a massive bowl of papaya chunks beside the chips, looking weirdly exotic amidst the generic party snacks. Maya helped herself to some, mostly to have something to do with her hands.

That's when she saw Her.

She was sitting on the diving board, legs crossed, watching everything with these unreadable eyes like she was some kind of sphinx guarding ancient secrets instead of a teenager in a bikini. Skyler Torres. The girl who'd transferred in sophomore year and moved through the halls like she was operating on a completely different frequency.

Maya had been low-key spying on Skyler all summer — following their poetry account on Instagram, memorizing their order at the coffee shop, taking the long way to third period just to pass their locker. She knew it was borderline creepy, but she couldn't help herself. Skyler was everything Maya wanted to be: confident, mysterious, unapologetically weird.

"You're doing it again," Chloe said.

"Doing what?"

"The thing where you stare like you're trying to absorb their soul through telepathy."

Maya practically choked on her papaya. "I'm not —"

"Then go talk to them."

"Absolutely not."

"Maya, you literally wrote a whole-ass poem about their hands in creative writing. You can't spend another year being a background character in your own crush." Chloe pushed her forward. "Go. I believe in you. Also, I will never let you live it down if you don't."

Maya's heart was hammering against her ribs like it was trying to escape her chest as she made her way across the pool deck. Every step felt like walking through molasses.

Skyler looked up as Maya approached. Their expression didn't change, but something in their eyes shifted. "Hey."

"Hey," Maya squeaked. Smooth. "I, uh — I like your account. The poetry stuff. It's really good."

Skyler's eyebrows rose slightly. "You follow me?"

"Yeah. I'm @maya_writes_stuff."

"Wait." Skyler pulled out their phone, tapped a few times. "You wrote that piece about the vitamin D deficiency metaphor?"

Maya felt her face burning. "That's — yeah. That's me."

"That poem was everything," Skyler said, and they actually meant it. "I've been trying to figure out who wrote it for months. The line about how some people are like supplements — they look healthy on the surface but they're actually just artificial versions of something real." They shook their head. "That shit changed me.".

Maya couldn't breathe. "You really think so?"

"I know so." Skyler patted the space beside them on the diving board. "Sit. We have a lot to talk about."

As Maya sat down, the party noise faded into the background. Her palms weren't sweating anymore. For the first time all summer, she felt exactly like she was supposed to be there.