Riddles and Goldfish

The carnival smelled like deep-fried everything and desperation, but Jay and I had made it our post-middle school tradition. Three years running, we'd spend our last week of summer here, blowing allowance money on rigged games and overpriced snacks.

"Dude, check it out." Jay pointed at a goldfish in a plastic bag, swimming in circles like its life depended on it. "Five bucks for a throw. Win you a fish that'll probably die in two days. Classic."

"You gonna do it?" I asked, even though I knew the answer.

"Bet."

Jay missed all three throws. The carnie winked and gave him a fish anyway.

We named it Sphinx because it had these weird riddle-like swirls on its sides, and also because we were pretentious fourteen-year-olds who thought naming things after mythology made us deep.

"No, but seriously," Jay said as we walked home, carefully carrying the bag like it contained nuclear codes. "What's the deal with actual sphinxes? They guard stuff, right? Secrets, treasure, whatever."

"Technically they ask riddles and eat you if you get it wrong."

"Metal. What if our Sphinx here" — he gestured to the fish — "is guarding secrets too? Like, fish secrets?"

"You're literally the smartest idiot I know."

That was the summer everything shifted. Jay started hanging out with the soccer kids, joining their text chains without me. I discovered that girls actually talked to me sometimes, which was terrifying and awesome. We were still friends, but the easy days were fading like a bruise you forget is there until someone presses it.

Sphinx the goldfish lived for three years. Through first relationships, failed driver's tests, and the weirdness that is being teenagers who used to be kids. We took turns feeding it, cleaning its bowl, making sure it didn't die like the carnie predicted.

The day before high school graduation, we sat in Jay's room watching Sphinx do its endless laps.

"We made it," Jay said quietly. "Through everything."

"Yeah. We did."

"Hey, remember that summer? The carnival?"

"Every day."

"We were such dorks."

"Still are."

He laughed. "True."

Sphinx swam to the surface, gulped air, and disappeared back into the depths. Some secrets don't need riddles. They just need time to surface.