Riddle of the Sphinx

The party thumped against Maya's ribs like a second heartbeat. She'd spent forty-five minutes getting ready, only to spend the last hour wedged between a plastic plant and someone's abandoned backpack. Her dad's old fedora sat pulled low on her forehead — her shield, her "I'm mysterious and aloof" hat, when really she was just freaking out.

Across the room, Sarah-the-Human-Sphinx held court on the kitchen counter. Sarah was the kind of girl who could crack her knuckles and make it look like a performance art piece. She was surrounded by guys like she was gravity itself.

"Hey, Sphinx Girl," someone called. "Got another riddle for us?"

Sarah's lips curved into something that wasn't quite a smile. "What runs but never walks, has a mouth but never talks?"

Maya actually opened her mouth to say "river" before remembering she was supposed to be aloof and mysterious. She adjusted her hat and tried to look like she had somewhere better to be, even though the only place she'd rather be was literally anywhere else.

"A river!" someone shouted.

"Incorrect," Sarah said. "The answer is: your crush on Tyler."

The room went silent for exactly two seconds before everyone lost it. Even Maya cracked up, and then Sarah's eyes landed on her like she'd actually noticed her for the first time all night. Sarah hopped off the counter and threaded through the crowd.

"Love the hat," she said, stopping right in Maya's personal space. Up close, Sarah smelled like vanilla and expensive trouble. "You look like you're solving the world's mysteries in there."

Maya's brain short-circuited. "I — uh."

"Wanna get out of here?" Sarah asked, like it was the most natural thing in the world. "I saw a stray sphinx statue in the park down the street. Bet she'd have better riddles."

And that was how Maya found herself running through the suburban night with Sarah-the-Human-Sphinx, fedora flying off somewhere between Mrs. Henderson's hydrangeas and the park entrance. Her palm was sweaty where it pressed against Sarah's hand, and for the first time all night, she wasn't thinking about being cool or mysterious or anything besides the fact that she was absolutely, terrifyingly alive.

"So," Sarah said as they collapsed onto a bench, both breathless. "What's the answer?"

"To what?"

"The riddle." Sarah turned to her, moonlight catching in her dark eyes. "What runs but never walks?"

Maya looked at their hands, still pressed together on the bench between them. "Time," she said. "And maybe us, if we're lucky."