Riddle in the Rain

Maya's **hat** was absolutely ruined. The vintage fedora she'd spent three weeks hunting for at thrift stores now dripped with murky puddle **water**, casualties of her older brother's chaotic parking job. He'd splashed her getting out of the car at school—again—in front of literally everyone.

"Nice look," Jordan called from across the senior lot, grinning with that infuriatingly cute crooked smile. "Very drowned rat chic."

Maya flipped him off, but she was dying inside. This was it: her moment. The first day of senior year, and she'd finally worked up the nerve to talk to him at lunch. Now she looked like she'd gone swimming in her outfit.

Her **iPhone** buzzed in her pocket. Best friend Lena: *EMERGENCY. Mr. Henderson's making us do the Sphinx project in pairs. You're with Jordan.*

Maya nearly dropped her phone. The **sphinx**. The mythical creature with the riddle. Their mythology teacher was obsessed with "unlocking mysteries" and "embracing the unknown," which mostly meant assigning awkward partnered projects.

"Hey," Jordan appeared beside her at her locker. "About the hat situation—"

"Don't," Maya groaned, face burning. "Just don't."

"I was gonna say," he reached into his backpack, "I have this beanie my sister left. It's clean. Probably." He shrugged. "If you want."

She stared at him. "Your sister moved to Paris three years ago."

"Okay, so I stole it back. Whatever." His ears went pink. "It matches your eyes."

The hallway went completely silent. Someone down the corridor actually gasped.

Maya's stomach did that terrifying flutter thing—the kind that felt less like butterflies and more like she'd accidentally taken a jittery **vitamin** supplement on an empty stomach. She grabbed the beanie. It was soft gray wool.

"So," Jordan said, leaning against the lockers, "the Sphinx project. We could come up with the worst riddle ever. Make Henderson regret everything."

Maya pulled the beanie on. It smelled like cedar and something citrusy. "I'm listening."

"What walks on four legs in the morning, two legs at noon, and three legs in the evening—but also texts its crush in homeroom and immediately regrets it?"

Their eyes met.

"Who says it's a regret?" Maya heard herself say.

Jordan's smile softened into something real. He reached for her hand. "I was hoping you'd say that."