Riddle Me This

I was already regretting agreeing to help with the spring dance decorations when Coach Martinez blew her whistle from the pool deck.

"Harrison! Swim practice in ten! Don't think I didn't notice you skipping yesterday!"

I winced. Of course she'd noticed. I'd been skipping swimming practice all week to avoid explaining to the team why I'd signed up for the Egyptian-themed dance committee instead of helping with our regional qualifiers. But how could I say no to Maya? She'd given me that look—head tilted, smile playing at the corners of her mouth—and suddenly I was spending my afternoons cutting gold paper into hieroglyphics.

"Be there, Coach!" I called back, trying to sound confident while simultaneously trying to disappear behind the cardboard sphinx we'd spent three days building.

Maya appeared from behind a pile of streamers, holding a smoothie cup. "You nervous about regionals?"

"What? No. I'm totally chill." I shifted my weight. My shoulder bumped the sphinx. It wobbled dangerously.

Maya laughed—that genuine, head-thrown-back laugh that made my chest feel weird. "You're a terrible liar, Harrison."

She handed me the smoothie. "Here. I made you something. It's supposed to help with energy before competitions."

I took it, trying to play it cool. "Thanks, that's... actually really thoughtful."

"Yeah, well." She looked away, suddenly very interested in a roll of tape. "I've seen your practice times. You've been killing it this season. You're gonna crush regionals."

I felt my face heat up. She noticed my swim times?

"But don't let it go to your head," she added. "I still beat your fifty-free by three seconds last month."

"That was a FLUKE."

She grinned. "Keep telling yourself that."

I took a long sip of the smoothie. It was... interesting. Kind of earthy, surprisingly sweet, with a weird texture. "What's in this anyway?"

"Spinach, banana, peanut butter, and coconut water. My dad's recipe." She stepped closer. "You've got a little—"

She reached out and brushed something from my lip. Her fingers lingered for a microsecond before pulling away.

"Spinach," she said softly.

I stared at her. The smoothie tasted perfect now. The cardboard sphinx seemed less ridiculous. The impending doom of swim practice felt lighter.

"Hey, Maya?"

"Yeah?"

"After regionals... want to get smoothies again? But somewhere we can actually sit down?"

She smiled—that same smile that had gotten me into this mess in the first place. "I'd like that."

"HARRISON! TWO MINUTES!" Coach Martinez's voice echoed across the gym.

"Coming!" I yelled back, then turned to Maya. "I'll see you later."

"Go crush it, Harrison," she said. "But not literally. Please don't actually crush the competition."

I laughed and headed toward the pool, spinach smoothie in hand, feeling like maybe I was figuring out this whole life thing after all.