The Sphinx of Westlake High

Maya's first mistake was thinking she could coast through freshman year invisible. The second was eating that spinach wrap before third period.

"You've got green in your braces," whispered Marcus, the only person at Westlake High who managed to make being in Audiovisual Club look cool. He gestured at his own teeth, and Maya's stomach did that familiar flop—like someone had reached inside and rearranged her organs.

"Since when do you care?" she shot back, but her voice came out cracked and small.

"Since you're staring at the Sphinx like she's gonna solve all your problems." Marcus nodded toward the senior table, where River sat surrounded by her carefully curated circle of admirers. Nobody called her River anymore. She was the Sphinx now—unreadable, untouchable, rumored to be writing a tell-all blog about the school's "pyramid scheme" of social hierarchy.

Maya had been obsessing over River's blog posts for months. They were everything Maya wasn't: confident, razor-sharp, completely unafraid. The latest post had called out the football team's locker room behavior as "actual bull" and somehow hadn't gotten expelled.

"That's not—" Maya started, but River herself was walking toward their table, surrounded by her usual orbit of friends. Maya's brain short-circuited. Spinach. Braces. The Sphinx. Incoming.

"Your HDMI cable's backwards," River said, stopping at their table like she'd just dropped in casually and not made everyone within ten feet hold their breath. She pointed at Marcus's AV equipment setup in the corner. "Been driving me crazy all week."

Marcus stared. "That's what you're gonna lead with?"

"What, you want me to talk about your crush on Maya?" River raised an eyebrow. "Because we could, but I'm trying to be chill about it."

Maya felt her face catch fire. The spinach in her braces suddenly seemed like the least of her problems.

"That's not—" Marcus started, going red.

"Relax," River said, sliding into the seat across from them. "I need someone to help me test something for the blog. You in, or are you gonna keep pretending you don't stare at me every lunch period?"

Maya's heart hammered against her ribs like it was trying to escape. This was it—the moment she became someone who did things, or someone who watched other people do things.

She swallowed. The spinach wasn't going anywhere, and neither was she.

"I'm in," Maya said. "But you're gonna need better material than 'your cable's backwards.'"

River's mouth twitched. "Oh, she speaks." She pulled out her phone. "Welcome to the pyramid scheme, new kid. Hope you brought your own spinach."