Riddles in the Deep End

The pyramid of red Solo cups towered precariously on Jordan's kitchen counter, monuments to a party she wasn't sure she wanted to host. Her parents had left for the weekend—classic mistake number one—and now her living room was packed with half the sophomore class, most of whom she'd never actually spoken to until tonight.

Jordan retreated to her bedroom, where her goldfish Finbar swam in lazy circles around his plastic castle. She pressed her forehead against the cool glass. "You're living your best life, huh buddy? At least someone's chill tonight."

"Hiding?" Maya appeared in the doorway, holding two cans of sparkling water. "Your mom's weird cat clock is literally staring at me from the hallway."

"It's vintage," Jordan muttered, accepting the drink. "I'm not hiding. I'm... strategically regrouping."

"Sure, Jan." Maya flopped onto the bed, her carefully curls already frizzing from the humidity. "Ethan asked about you. Like, three times."

Jordan's stomach did that annoying flutter thing. "He did?"

"He's by the sphinx statue in your front yard. You know, the one your grandma bought from that estate sale? The one that's supposed to have some deep riddle carved into it?" Maya laughed. "He's out there trying to decipher it like it's some ancient prophecy."

"Oh my god, that sphinx has been there since I was seven. It's just decorative."

"Exactly." Maya sat up. "But he's out there anyway, being all cute and confused. Meanwhile, I'm supposed to bear witness to the fact that you're in here spiraling instead of talking to him."

"I can't just—" Jordan gestured wildly. "What do I even say? 'Hey, nice interpretation of lawn ornament mythology'?"

"I don't know, maybe start with 'hey'?" Maya's phone buzzed. She glanced at it and groaned. "Ugh, Tyler wants me to come do karaoke. This night is officially peak chaos."

After Maya left, Jordan caught her reflection in the mirror—hair slightly messy, makeup minimal, heart racing for no reason. She thought about Finbar, swimming his endless loops without questioning anything. Thought about the sphinx outside, freezing its riddle in stone, waiting for someone brave enough to answer.

Or dumb enough.

Jordan grabbed her jacket and headed downstairs, pushing through the crowd and out the front door. There Ethan was, crouched beside the concrete sphinx, phone flashlight illuminating the weathered inscription.

"You know," she said, "there's no actual riddle. My grandma just liked the aesthetic."

Ethan jumped, nearly dropping his phone. "Jordan! Hey, uh, I was just—" He rubbed the back of his neck, which was honestly adorable. "Figured there had to be some secret meaning, right?"

"Sometimes things are just exactly what they look like," she said, leaning against the porch railing. "But if you want, we can make up our own riddle."

Ethan grinned. "Yeah? I'm listening."

And for the first time all night, Jordan didn't feel like hiding at all.