Riddle at Riley's Pool

The water in Riley's above-ground pool glowed with string lights when Maya slipped through the back fence, heart hammering. Tonight was the night. Three weeks of Instagram story-stalking—okay, low-key spying—had led here.

"You made it!" Riley squeaked, grabbing Maya's hand. Her cat, Pumpkin, sat on the patio like a fuzzy orange judgment, watching the whole operation.

Maya's best friend since kindergarten, Jenna, was already in the pool with Ryan—THE Ryan, who'd sat behind Maya in bio and made her forget how mitochondria worked for six weeks straight. Maya froze. This was supposed to be HER moment.

"Maya!" Ryan waved, splashing water. "Jump in!"

But then the universe decided to humiliate her. Maya's foot caught on a lawn chair, and instead of a graceful dive, she face-planted into the shallow end. Chaos erupted. Someone shouted "KELSO!" and everyone lost it.

Maya surfaced, hair plastered to her face, mortified.

Ryan swam over, smiling. "That was honestly legendary."

Then he dropped the bomb. "Hey, can I ask you something? What walks on four legs in the morning, two legs at noon, and three legs in the evening?"

Jenna rolled her eyes. "The sphinx riddle? Really?"

"It's a human," Maya said without thinking. "Baby, adult, and old person with a cane."

Ryan's eyes went wide. "Nobody ever gets that on the first try."

The cat chose that moment to knock over a speaker, blasting TikTok audio. Everyone died laughing. Maya realized something—the embarrassment, the overthinking, the spy-level research—it had all been in her head. Ryan wasn't some mythical sphinx guarding impossible secrets. He was just a dork who loved riddles.

"So," Ryan said, treading water beside her, "wanna get food after? Just us?"

Maya's phone buzzed in her bag—ignored. The real world was right here, chlorine-scented and perfect.

"Yeah," she said. "I'd like that."