The Sphinx of Third Period English

My palms were sweating so bad I could barely grip my phone. Mason, aka the Sphinx of third period English, had finally posted a new story. The guy never said anything—hence the nickname—but somehow he was still the most interesting person at Northwood High.

I was basically a certified spy at this point. Okay, fine, I just refreshed his profile way too often, but still. My cat, Beans, judged me from my bed, giving me that look cats reserve for their most pathetic humans.

"You don't understand," I told her. "He posted a picture of a book. The same book I'm reading. This is literally fate."

Beans yawned, unimpressed.

Friday at lunch, Chloe found me lurking near the courtyard—purely coincidentally, obviously. Mason sat under the old oak tree, reading. The light hit his jawline in a way that felt illegal.

"You're being weird again," Chloe said, stealing a fry from my tray. "Just talk to him."

"Easy for you to say. You didn't have spinach in your braces freshman year when you tried flirting with Lucas."

Chloe's face went pink. "We agreed never to speak of that."

"And I'm keeping that promise by not speaking to Mason. It's called self-preservation."

Then Mason looked up. Our eyes met across the courtyard. My palms started sweating again. He smiled—actually smiled—and held up his book. The Great Gatsby. My book.

I might have forgotten how to breathe.

"Well," Chloe whispered. "Looks like the Sphinx finally speaks."

Later, walking past his table, I tripped. Because of course I did. My lunch tray went flying. Spinach everywhere. My face burned hotter than the sun.

A hand appeared. Mason's hand. His palm was warm against mine as he helped me up.

"I like that part too," he said, nodding at my copy of Gatsby on the ground. "Page forty-two."

I stared at him, spinach stuck to my shoe like a green badge of honor. "Wait, you've been watching me read?"

"Maybe." His smile was shy, real. "Or maybe I just wanted an excuse to talk to you."

My cat was going to lose it when I told her everything. The Sphinx hadn't just spoken—he'd been watching me back this whole time.