Riddles at 3 A.M.

I was basically a zombie by third period, shuffling through the hallway like I'd just crawled out of a grave. Thanks to Mr. Henderson's AP History essay due at midnight, followed by Maya blowing up my phone until 2 A.M. about whether Tyler's "maybe" to Spring Fling meant "yes" or "ask me again later." Spoiler: it meant "I'm emotionally unavailable but still want the option."

The real problem wasn't the sleep deprivation though — it was that I'd been running from the truth for weeks. I told everyone I was focusing on track, but really I was just running from myself. From the fact that I didn't know who I was without Maya's constant narration of my life.

"You look like death," she'd said at lunch, sliding a gummy vitamin across the table. "My mom says these cure everything. Even bad decisions."

"Your mom also says astrology explains why you got a C in math," I'd said, but I took it anyway because I was desperate.

The turning point came during Mr. Rivera's English lit lecture on Greek mythology. He put up an image of the Great Sphinx of Giza, started talking about riddles and guardians and thresholds, and something clicked. The sphinx didn't ask for easy answers — it demanded that you know yourself before you could pass.

I skipped practice that afternoon. First time all season. Instead, I sat at the coffee shop by myself, ordered an overpriced matcha latte I couldn't afford, and wrote down everything I'd been too scared to admit: I didn't want to run track anymore. I didn't want to go to Spring Fling. I didn't want to be the person everyone expected me to be.

Maya found me there an hour later, breathless like she'd been searching everywhere.

"I thought something happened to you," she said, and for once she wasn't performing. She was actually scared.

"Something did," I said. "I'm quitting track."

She stared at me for a long second. Then she sat down and stole my matcha.

"Okay," she said. "But you're still coming to Spring Fling with me. As friends."

I smiled for the first time in weeks. "Deal."

Sometimes the sphinx's riddle isn't what you think it is. Sometimes it's just figuring out that the zombie shuffle isn't living at all — and that running toward what you want is way better than running away from what you don't.