Riddles in the Rain

Maya stood frozen in front of the bathroom mirror, staring in horror. A perfect, vibrant piece of **spinach** wedged between her front teeth—probably there since lunch, which meant she'd spent the entire afternoon smiling at Leo with a green decoration in her mouth.

"Smooth, Maya. So smooth."

Outside, thunder rattled the window. The party was at Jordan's house, and Jordan's parents were never home, which basically meant free rein for the entire sophomore class. Maya had spent thirty minutes working up the courage to actually talk to Leo—the cute skater boy who sat behind her in bio—and now this.

She rinsed her mouth, scrubbed until her gums felt raw, and practiced what she'd say. Hey Leo. No, too formal. Leo! What's up? Better. Leo, nice party. Awkward.

She opened the bathroom door and nearly tripped over a small gray **cat** that wound through her legs like it owned the place.

"Where did you come from?" she whispered. The cat's golden eyes seemed to say, *I live here, you don't.*

The kitchen was packed. Someone had brought a fruit platter with chunks of bright orange **papaya**, which nobody was touching because apparently papaya was the mystery fruit of the century. Maya grabbed a piece anyway, desperate for something to do with her hands.

"You're actually eating that?"

She turned. Leo. Right there. Skateboard tucked under one arm, hair still damp from the rain outside.

"It's good," she said, then internally winced. *It's good? That's all you got?*

He smiled. A real one, crinkling at the corners. "Bold choice. Most people here won't eat anything that doesn't come in a wrapper."

Suddenly—**lightning** flashed, and the power died.

Screams. Laughter. Someone's phone flashlight cut through the darkness, illuminating faces in spooky relief. In the chaos, Maya felt fingers brush her hand.

"Hey," Leo's voice came from beside her in the dark. "You want to bail? There's this rooftop nearby where you can see the whole storm."

Her heart did something acrobatic. "Lead the way."

They ran through the rain, breathless and electric. On the rooftop, the sky turned purple and silver, each lightning bolt painting the world in frozen moments. She told him about the spinach incident. He laughed so hard he almost fell off the ledge.

"You know," he said, watching the storm, "you're like a **sphinx** or something. Mysterious, but in a cool way."

She'd never felt less mysterious in her entire life, but she also knew she'd never forget this night—the papaya on her tongue, the rain in her hair, the boy beside her as the world cracked open with possibility.