Riddles at the Rec Center

The tropical-themed pool party was supposed to be legendary—until Kai spotted the new kid standing alone by the **padel** courts, clutching a racquet like it might bite. Kai's friends had already christened the newcomer "the **Sphinx**" because nobody knew his name and he never spoke.

"Dude, just go talk to him," Maya said, flipping her sunglasses down. "You're staring like a creep."

Kai's **palm**s were sweating. This was exactly why he hated being the new kid last year—the memory still made his stomach twist. But Maya was already pushing him forward, her braces glinting when she grinned.

"Hey," Kai managed, his voice cracking. Great. "I'm Kai. You play?"

The Sphinx shrugged. "My mom made me come. Said I need 'socialization.'"

His name was Adrian, and he was weird—quiet, intense, and completely unimpressed by Kai's attempt to explain the hierarchy of the high school **pool** crowd. But when Kai's younger sister, absolutely determined to prove she was mature, proudly offered Adrian a slice of **papaya"" from the fruit platter ("It's EXOTIC, Adrian"), the boy actually smiled.

"My grandma grows these," he said, and suddenly he was talking about Puerto Rico, about how he missed the humidity, about how everything in this California suburb felt aggressively beige.

By sunset, Kai's friends had stopped calling him the Sphinx. Maya declared him "low-key chill," and Kai's sister spent dinner doing dramatic reenactments of her fruit presentation.

Later, as they sat on the pool's edge with their feet in the water, Adrian tossed a piece of ice at Kai. "Thanks for talking to me."

Kai shrugged, feeling something unclench in his chest. "Yeah, well. Somebody had to break before my sister forced more papaya on you."

Adrian laughed. It echoed across the empty pool, and Kai thought that maybe—just maybe—California summers weren't so bad after all.