Poolside Riddles at Midnight

The backyard pool glowed green from underwater LED lights, casting everything in an alien aura. I leaned against the fence, nursing a lukewarm soda, feeling like a total zombie after finals week had turned my brain into mush. This was supposed to be the party of the summer, but I'd spent the last hour watching people cannonball and wondering why I always felt like I was faking it.

"You look like you're solving the riddle of the Sphinx over there."

I jumped. Maya had materialized beside me, wet hair dripping onto her denim jacket. She was the kind of girl who existed in a different dimension socially—the one who'd actually been invited to this party, unlike me, who'd tagged along with my cousin.

"Just tired," I mumbled. "And I don't think riddles are my thing."

"Everyone says that until they hear one." Maya's eyes caught the pool lights, turning almost gold. "Okay, here's the thing about the Sphinx—her riddles weren't about being smart. They were about seeing yourself."

The pool surface rippled as someone did a particularly sloppy dive. I looked at Maya, really looked at her, and realized she wasn't floating above me in some social stratosphere. She was just standing by the fence, arms crossed, looking as out of place as I felt.

"So what's the riddle?" I asked.

She smiled, and it wasn't the practiced smile I'd seen her give everyone else all semester. "What walks on four legs in the morning, two legs at noon, and three legs in the evening?"

"Man," I said. "That's literally the most famous riddle ever."

"Okay, okay, but what does it mean?"

I thought about it—really thought—while around us, the party continued in its blur of splashes and laughter and people pretending to be having the time of their lives.

"It's about growing up," I said slowly. "About how we change. About how we start off crawling and end up... I don't know, needing support?"

"Or maybe," Maya said, "it's about how we're always becoming someone else, and that's okay. Like, you're not a zombie anymore, are you?"

I looked at the pool, at my reflection rippling in the water. I didn't feel like a zombie anymore. I felt awake.

"No," I said. "I guess not."

"Good," she said. "Because I need someone to help me TP the principal's house later, and I can't do it alone."

I laughed, and for the first time all night, it wasn't fake. The pool lights flickered, reflecting off everything uncertain and luminous and just beginning.