Riddle at the Carnival
Maya's been **running** her whole life. Literally, like track-star, scholarship-dreams running. But also figuratively—running from the version of herself she doesn't want anyone to see. The one who overthinks everything, who feels awkward in her own skin, who talks to her **goldfish** because Buttons is the only one who doesn't expect her to be chill.
"You good, M?" Carlos asks as they hit the school carnival. "You've been weird lately."
"Yeah, fine," she says, too fast. Classic.
That's when she spots Raven—that mysterious junior who basically never speaks. Raven's standing by the ring toss, watching everything like she's solving a puzzle. Everyone calls her the **Sphinx** because she always looks like she's about to drop some cryptic wisdom or expose your deepest insecurity without saying a word.
Maya's been lowkey avoiding Raven since seventh grade, ever since Raven gave her this look across the cafeteria that felt like she saw right through Maya's fake-confidence act.
Now their eyes lock. Raven raises an eyebrow, walks over.
"You're running from something," Raven says, like it's fact.
Maya's heart practically stops. "What? No, I—I literally run. Track."
Raven's lip twitches. "That's not what I mean."
She points to the ring toss booth. "Your goldfish has a better attention span than you do with yourself. Answer one question right, and I'll leave you alone. Answer wrong, and you have to actually stop running."
Maya's palms are sweating but she nods. "Fine."
"What's the one thing you can't outrun?" Raven asks.
The words stick in Maya's throat. The answer hits her like a physical thing—yourself. You can't outrun who you actually are.
"Me," Maya whispers. "I can't outrun myself."
Raven's eyes soften for the first time ever. "Finally."
The carnival lights blur. Maya doesn't know whether to laugh or cry, but for the first time in forever, she feels like she can actually breathe.
"Wanna play the ring toss?" Raven asks. "I'm terrible at it."
Maya grins. "Same. Let's lose together."