Riddles in the Cafeteria

Maya's mom had joined another pyramid scheme. This time it was those organic skincare MLMs, and now their kitchen counter was overflowed with overpriced mango butter and papaya enzyme peels that smelled like desperation.

"You should try to sell some at school, mija," her mom suggested, arranging tiny glass bottles with the intensity of a bomb technician.

"Absolutely not," Maya said, then immediately regretted it when her mom's face fell.

By lunch, Maya was still thinking about it. She sat at her usual spot near the back of the cafeteria, nursing the humiliation of being That Kid Whose Mom Did MLMs. That's when she saw Him—the Sphinx. That's what everyone called Leo, because he'd moved here from Egypt and gave nothing away. No facial expressions, no straightforward answers, just these measured responses that left you more confused than before you asked.

He was sitting alone, which was weird because Leo was definitely on the social pyramid's second tier. The popular kids tolerated him. The theater kids worshipped his mysterious vibe. Maya had accidentally made eye contact with him once in the hallway and literally forgot how to walk.

Today, though, Leo was staring at his lunch like it had personally offended him.

Maya's phone buzzed. Her mom: "At least try the papaya mask on someone?"

Something in Maya snapped. She grabbed the tiny glass bottle from her backpack, marched over to Leo's table, and slammed it down.

"Papaya enzyme peel," she said, her voice cracking spectacularly. "Forty percent off if you know me."

Leo stared at her. And then, miracle of miracles, he smiled. It was small, barely there, but it existed.

"Your mom in one of those things?" he asked.

"Yes. It's humiliating."

"My mom tried to sell me weight-loss tea last month," Leo said. "I drank three cups before I realized it was just laxatives."

Maya laughed so hard she snorted. The Sphinx was funny. The Sphinx was human. The Sphinx was, apparently, just as messy as the rest of them.

"Wanna split this?" Leo pointed at the papaya in his lunchbox. "I hate it but my aunt keeps buying them."

"Weird flex," Maya said, sitting down, "but okay."

The papaya was terrible. Leo wasn't. And the pyramid scheme? Well, that was still embarrassing. But maybe some things were worth cringing for, if they got you a seat at the right table.