What the Sphinx Knew

Maya's iPhone buzzed for the third time in two minutes, and she practically threw herself across her bed to grab it. Probably just her mom asking about dinner again. But no—it was him.

Elias.

The guy who'd transferred to Westwood High three weeks ago and somehow already had everyone whispering in the hallways. He sat alone at lunch, always reading, never looking up. People called him 'the Sphinx' behind his back because nobody could figure him out—like he was some ancient riddle wrapped in a hoodie and vintage sneakers.

Maya had been lowkey obsessed since she'd first seen him. Which was embarrassing, honestly. Her friends would roast her endlessly if they knew.

* 'Hey, did I leave my biology book in your locker yesterday?' *

Maya stared at the text. They'd never even spoken before. He'd noticed her? Her heart did something genuinely concerning.

She spent twenty minutes crafting her response—casual but not too casual, friendly but not desperate, adding and removing thumbs-up emojis like her life depended on it. Finally: *'Yeah! I can bring it Monday?'

*Perfect.*

Then came the cafeteria incident on Monday.

Maya had been nervous all morning, her stomach doing actual gymnastics. She'd barely eaten breakfast, so when lunch came, she loaded her tray with extra everything from the salad bar—including what she thought was a generous serving of what turned out to be creamed spinach.

She spotted Elias at his usual corner table and made her way over,biology book clutched like a shield.

"Hey!" she said, her voice coming out weirdly high-pitched. "Your book."

Elias looked up. His eyes were gold-brown and unexpectedly warm. "Oh, thanks. You're Maya, right?"

He knew her name?

"Yeah!"

She smiled. And that's when Jenna, walking backward while laughing at something her friend said, crashed directly into Maya.

The creamed spinach went everywhere. Like, *everywhere*. All over Maya's white shirt, all over Elias's table, some somehow landed in his hair.

The entire cafeteria went silent. Then someone giggled. Then everyone was laughing.

Maya's face burned so hot she thought she might literally combust. She wanted to disappear, to melt through the linoleum floors, to text her mom to come pick her up because she was never showing her face at school again.

Elias just sat there, spinach dripping down his forehead, and started laughing. Not mean laughing—like, genuinely losing it.

"Well," he said, wiping spinach from his eyelash, "this is definitely the most memorable conversation I've had at this school."

He was smiling at her. Not with that weird look everyone else had, like she was a walking disaster. But like she was funny. Like he was actually glad she'd spinach-bombed his lunch.

Maya's phone buzzed in her pocket.

*'Same time tomorrow? Different food though maybe?'

The Sphinx, she realized, wasn't a riddle at all. He was just waiting for someone to be real with him—spinach disasters and all.