Riddle Behind Home Plate

Maya hated three things: her stepdad's baseball obsession, the community pool she was forced to lifeguard at all summer, and riddles.

So of course, that July brought all three.

"You're not even watching the game," Liam said, flicking his baseball cap backward like he thought he was chill. Typical varsity douche, standing way too close to her lifeguard chair.

"It's your brother's team," Maya muttered, adjusting her sunglasses. "I'm literally required to be here. Family support and whatever."

The pool had closed early thanks to some mysterious "water issue" — her boss's phrasing, not hers — so she was stuck at the baseball field behind the high school. The July humidity clung to her skin like a second, grosser layer.

"Hey." Liam gestured toward the woods beyond left field. "What's that?"

Maya squinted. Between the trees, something pale and weathered peeked through the vines. A statue. Not like, a nice one. It looked like someone had dumped a bizarre art project there years ago and let nature reclaim it.

"Is that... a sphinx?"

"Probably some old theater prop from before we were born," Liam said, but something in his voice had changed. "Wanna check it out?"

The walk there involved scaling a rusty fence (Liam's jeans, not her problem) and pushing through shoulder-high weeds. The closer they got, the more the sphinx looked wrong — not Egyptian style, but weirdly modern. Its face was cracked, one eye missing, but the other stared straight ahead like it knew something.

"Okay, this is creepy," Maya said, crossing her arms. "Also, why is there a random sphinx behind the baseball field?"

"Maybe it's a riddle." Liam grinned, and for the first time, Maya noticed he had actual laugh lines. "What walks on four legs in the morning, two at noon—"

"No," she said flatly. "I'm not doing the Oedipus riddle. That's literally what got him into trouble."

But she stepped closer anyway. The sphinx's missing eye socket held something small and blue — a glass marble, catching a stray beam of sunlight through the trees.

Maya reached for it, her fingers inches from the marble, when Liam's hand brushed hers. Not accidental. Purposeful, warm, his skin slightly calloused from baseball.

Neither of them moved.

"You know," he said, voice lower, "I've been trying to get you to notice me since last month."

Her stomach did that embarrassing flip thing. "You've literally never spoken to me before today."

"I've sat behind you in honors English since January." He stepped closer. "You always wear those headphones. I figured you weren't interested."

"I wasn't interested," she said, but she didn't pull away. "In being hit on by varsity guys who think they're god's gift to—"

"I'm not hitting on you." Liam's eyes crinkled. "I'm just... standing near a sphinx in the woods with you. And I really want to know what happens next."

Maya's pulse did something stupid. "What happens next is we get back before my stepdad realizes we're gone."

"And after that?"

She met his gaze, really looked at him — no varsity jacket, no performative confidence. Just Liam, who apparently sat behind her in English and noticed her headphones.

"Maybe," she said, "you can help me figure out why there's a sphinx behind the baseball field."

"Deal." His fingers intertwined with hers. "But if we find another marble, I'm calling dibs."

"You're literally the worst."

"You're smiling."

"Shut up."

The sphinx watched them walk back, its one stone eye catching the last light of day. Whatever riddle it had been keeping, Maya figured they'd just started solving it.