Riddles in the Cafeteria

Maya stared at the middle school lunch table like it was some ancient **pyramid** scheme she hadn't signed up for. At the apex sat Jordan—her former best friend, now Instagram royalty with 2,000 followers and a newfound affinity for calling everyone "bestie" except her.

"Hey!" Jordan waved, surrounded by her carefully curated squad. "Maya! Come sit!"

The invitation hung in the air like a unrequited snap. Maya's feet were cement. Three months ago, they'd shared a Spotify account and inside jokes about their algebra teacher's questionable fashion choices. Now Jordan rotated through friend groups like she was swiping through a feed, collecting followers like they were limited edition NFTs.

"Nah, I'm good," Maya managed, though her voice cracked.

She escaped to the library, her sanctuary since the Great Friend Schism of sophomore year. That's where she found Leo, aka the **Sphinx** of Northwood High. The nickname wasn't original—someone had started calling him that freshman year because he sat by himself, reading thick hardbacks, radiating this mysterious energy that somehow made him unapproachable yet fascinating.

"Avoiding the pyramid," Leo said without looking up from his book.

Maya blinked. "You saw that?"

"I see everything from here." He finally looked up, dark eyes understanding. "It's brutal out there."

"She just... left me behind," Maya confessed, words spilling out like they'd been waiting forever. "Like I was some starter pack she graduated from."

Leo closed his book. "Or maybe she's still figuring out who she is, and she's doing it badly. Loudly. Annoyingly."

"That's giving her too much credit."

"Is it?" Leo tilted his head. "We're all just guessing our way through this maze. Jordan's just more theatrical about it."

Something about his quiet certainty settled the knot in Maya's chest. The Sphinx hadn't riddled her—he'd reflected her.

"Wanna hear my theory?" Leo continued. "Real friendship isn't about matching each other's energy or staying frozen in time. It's about showing up when it matters. Jordan's in her messy era. If she's worth it, she'll circle back. If not..." He shrugged. "You'll be okay anyway."

Maya's phone buzzed. Jordan: *miss you at lunch come overrrr*

The old Maya would've sprinted back, grateful for crumbs. The new Maya—fueled by Leo's unexpected wisdom—typed: *actually having a good convo here but catch you later?*

She hit send and exhaled. The pyramid still existed. But for the first time, she wasn't trying to climb it. She was building her own ground.