The Sphinx's Last Laugh

I was literally spiraling. My phone had died at 2% while livestreaming the most embarrassing moment of my life, and now I was stuck at Jordan's pool party without a single friend in sight.

The problem started two hours ago when I found out Maya—my actual best friend since kindergarten—had been talking smack about me behind my back. Something about how I was "trying too hard" with my new vintage hat collection. Whatever. She was the one who begged me to wear the ridiculous sphinx-shaped beret to her Egypt-themed birthday last month.

Anyway, there I was. Hovering near the snack table like a total loser, trying not to make eye contact with anyone. That's when Jordan's little brother Dylan comes up holding this gross tangle of cable he'd fished out from behind their TV setup.

"You look like you need this more than I do," he says, and dumps this algae-covered rope into my hands. "It's from our old aquarium."

I'm about to roast him when I hear it—Maya's laugh. The specific one she does when she's making fun of someone. She's in the deep end with her new squad, pointing at me. At my hat. At everything.

My face burned. I considered bolting, but instead I marched to the edge of the pool, water rippling around my ankles, and shouted: "At least I didn't abandon my best friend because she started wearing hats!"

Dead silence. Then someone from Maya's group yells, "What?"

And then Jordan—sweet, oblivious Jordan—calls from the diving board: "Maya, you literally told me yesterday you missed hanging out with her!"

The look on Maya's face. Absolute.

I stood there, water soaking my favorite socks, clutching this gross cable like it was my lifeline. And suddenly everyone was staring at us, waiting.

"Whatever," Maya flipped her hair. "I'm over it."

"No, you're not," I heard myself say. "And I'm done acting like I am either."

I walked out. No dramatic exit. Just me and my sphinx hat, leaving them all to figure out their mess. My phone was dead, but somehow I'd never felt more alive.