The Storm That Changed Everything

Maya's cat, Barnaby, was her only friend during freshman year. Pathetic? Maybe. But when you're the new kid who stutters through presentations and spends lunch periods in the library, a judgmental feline who sleeps on your textbooks feels like solid gold.

Then came the lightning storm of October 17th.

She'd been struggling with Mr. Harrison's Sphinx Project—everyone had to present something mythological and meaningful. The popular kids were doing flashy group projects. Chloe was already planning her Egyptian goddess costume. Maya was stuck with a crumbling paper-mache sphinx that looked more like a potato with identity issues.

"This is literal garbage," she whispered to Barnaby, who blinked slowly from his perch on her desk. "Thanks for the pep talk, buddy."

The storm knocked out the WiFi, obviously. Because the universe had perfect timing.

She hauled her sad sphinx down to the kitchen to work under the backup lights, because that's what you do at 2 AM when you're doomed and can't sleep anyway. That's when she saw it—Jordan, the impossibly cute junior from her English class, sitting on his front porch across the street. Just sitting there in the rain like a moody movie protagonist.

Her stomach did that terrifying flippy thing.

She should've ignored it. Should've gone back inside and failed in peace. But something about the way he kept looking up at the sky like he was waiting for answers made her grab her umbrella and her potato-sphinx and march outside like she had actual courage.

"Cool sphinx," he said when she approached. And he wasn't even being sarcastic.

"It's supposed to be mysterious and enigmatic," she managed. "Instead, it mostly looks like it has allergies."

Jordan laughed. Actual laugh. Not that fake popular-kid chuckle.

"I'm doing my project on sphinxes too," he admitted. "Mine's just... worse."

They spent until dawn talking about mythology and anxiety and how everyone pretends to have it together while silently freaking out. Jordan admitted he got panic attacks before tests. Maya confessed she still watched cartoons when she was stressed. The lightning kept flashing, illuminating everything in these frozen, perfect moments.

When the first school bus rolled down the street, they exchanged numbers. As friends.

Barnaby was waiting by the door when she got back, looking offended she'd left him alone all night.

"You're still my best friend," she promised, scratching behind his ears. "But... I think I might have made a human one too."

Her sphinx project still looked like a potato. But somehow, that didn't matter anymore.