Riddles in the Hallway

Maya's hair was supposed to be sunset orange, a statement piece for sophomore year. Instead, it looked like a traffic cone exploded on her head. Her mom had sighed dramatically.

"You look like you're trying out for the school mascot, not tenth grade."

Speaking of mascots, the school's actual mascot was a bull—a cardboard monstrosity that the basketball team insisted on parading around at pep rallies. But that wasn't Maya's biggest problem.

Her biggest problem was the new kid, Raven, who sat alone at lunch reading books with titles in languages Maya didn't recognize. Raven had this sphinx-like quality about her—mysterious, intense, like she knew things regular people didn't. Maya had been assigned as her "welcome buddy" (thanks, guidance counselor) and had barely managed more than awkward nods.

Until the day Raven caught Maya crying behind the bleachers, hiding her hideous orange hair under a hoodie.

"Riddle me this," Raven said, dropping beside her. "What has stripes but can't run, gets worse with time, and makes everyone stare?"

Maya sniffled. "My hair?"

"Your attitude about it," Raven corrected. "It's just hair, Maya. It grows back. It changes. You know what doesn't change? The fact that you let other people's opinions become your reality."

Raven pulled something from her pocket—temporary hair color, midnight blue. "Try this instead. And while you're at it, try being the person who gives compliments instead of worrying about getting them."

The next day, Maya's hair was a galaxy of blue over faded orange. Still weird. Still not perfect. But when she walked past the group of guys who always made comments, she caught Raven's eye across the hall and smiled.

"Nice hair, Sphinx," Maya mouthed. Raven winked.

Some riddles you solve by changing the question, not the answer.