Riddles in the Dark

The party at Maya's house was already lowkey dead when I arrived, clutching my orange soda like a life preserver. I'd spent an hour getting ready—carefully curating my outfit so I wouldn't look like I was trying too hard, which ironically meant I was trying extremely hard. Classic.

I spotted Tyler across the room, looking unfairly good in that way where you know he barely tried and that's exactly why it worked. We'd been flirting in AP Bio for weeks, but tonight he was surrounded by his basketball friends, performing some elaborate handshake ritual that looked like it required actual coordination. I was Coordination Deficient. It was practically a medical condition at this point.

"Hey, Liv!" Maya appeared beside me, eyes slightly glazed. "You gotta meet this guy, he's like a human sphinx or something."

"A sphinx."

"Yeah, he won't stop asking riddles. It's weird but also kinda mesmerizing?"

She dragged me toward the back porch where some guy in a vintage band tee was holding court. "Okay, okay," he was saying, "what walks on four legs in the morning, two legs at noon—"

"Really?" I couldn't help myself. "That's the most basic sphinx energy imaginable. At least make it interesting."

He turned to me, and okay, I hadn't expected him to be cute. "Alright, hot shot. What's your riddle?"

"What's orange and sounds like a parrot?"

The porch went quiet. Even the couple making out in the corner stopped.

"A carrot," I said, deadpan.

He stared at me for three whole seconds before absolutely losing it. Not fake laughing, but genuinely laughing, and suddenly we were both cracking up while everyone else looked at us like we'd lost our minds. It was perfect.

We ended up talking for hours—about everything and nothing. He told me about his weird vitamin D deficiency that required him to sit in direct sunlight for twenty minutes daily (doctor's orders, apparently). I told him about my hopeless crush on someone at the party who was probably still performing basketball handshakes in the living room.

"Wait," he said. "Tyler?"

"Please don't."

"Liv, he's been asking everyone where you are for like an hour."

I blinked. "He what now?"

But before I could process that particular emotional earthquake, Tyler walked onto the porch, looking unexpectedly awkward.

"Hey," he said, rubbing the back of his neck. "I was looking for you. You like good at this party?"

And there I was, caught between two possibilities—the unexpected new connection that made me laugh until my ribs hurt, and the crush I'd spent months romanticizing who apparently noticed me too.

Sometimes life doesn't give you riddles with neat answers. Sometimes you just have to pick a door and walk through it, even when you have absolutely no clue what's on the other side.

"Yeah," I said, grinning. "I'm really good."