Riddles at the Pool

Marcus's legs felt like Jell-O as he stepped onto the **padel** court. The Summer Slam tournament. Every cool kid from Northwood High was watching, especially Chloe, who'd barely acknowledged his existence since sixth grade.

"You ready to get wrecked, newbie?" Tyler called out, spinning his racquet. Tyler—the self-proclaimed **bull** of the junior varsity soccer team, all brute force and zero finesse. Last week he'd "accidentally" shattered Marcus's phone screen with a wayward ball during gym class.

Marcus adjusted his glasses, sweat already trickling down his back. He'd only started playing **padel** three months ago when his dad got obsessed with it, pushing him to join the club. "Just bring it."

The game was chaos. Tyler smashed every ball, grunting with each swing like he was fighting invisible demons. Marcus played strategically, using angles and soft shots. But Tyler's aggressive style kept him on defense.

11-9. Match point. Tyler's serve.

The ball slammed into the glass wall. Marcus scrambled, hisracquet barely connecting. The ball trickled over the net—Tyler couldn't return it.

"WHATEVER," Tyler shouted, kicking the fence. "Lucky shot."

After the match, Marcus found himself by the **pool**, nursing a cherry soda and nursing his ego. He'd won, but it felt hollow. Tyler was already telling people Marcus had cheated.

"Nice game," a voice said.

He looked up. It was Maya—everyone called her **Sphinx** because she never spoke in class but somehow got straight A's. She was wearing a vintage band tee and reading a battered paperback.

"Thanks. I guess."

"Tyler's mad because you outsmarted him," she said, not looking up from her book. "Bulls charge. Sphinxes wait."

Marcus blinked. "What?"

She finally looked at him, her dark eyes unreadable. "You think too much. That's your strength. Tyler thinks too little. That's his weakness." She closed her book. "Also, Chloe was watching you the whole time."

"She was?"

"Sphinxes notice things." She stood up. "See you in AP Bio."

Marcus sat by the **pool** for another hour, watching the **padel** courts where the **bull** still roared, thinking about riddles and patience and the fact that maybe, just maybe, the quiet ones saw everything worth seeing.