Riddles in the Sand

Maya's hands shook as she stood in front of the bathroom mirror, straightening her frizzy hair for the third time. The Sweet Sixteen bonfire was in an hour, and her best friend Nina had promised there'd be college guys there. Guys like Dylan, whose amber eyes and crooked smile had been haunting Maya's thoughts since AP Bio started.

"You look hot, stop stressing," Nina called from the hallway. "Your hair is fine. You're gonna ghost us all if you keep overthinking."

They walked to the beach where palm trees swayed against the purple twilight. A bonfire crackled, and someone's phone blasted a playlist that everyone pretended not to hate. Maya spotted Dylan immediately—his mess of brown hair, the way he stood apart from the crowd like he belonged to a different species. A total fox, and the worst part was he didn't even seem to know it.

Dylan wandered over, holding a soda. "Hey. You're Maya, right? From biology?"

She froze. "Yeah. Hi."

"Cool." He kicked at the sand. "So, weird question—are you good at riddles? Like, sphinx-level good?"

Maya blinked. "What?"

"My little sister's obsessed with mythology. She keeps texting me these impossible riddles and I can't figure them out." He pulled out his phone, showing her a message: I speak without a mouth and hear without ears. I have no body, but I come alive with the wind.

"An echo," Maya said instantly.

Dylan's eyes widened. "No way. I spent an hour on that one." He laughed, and the sound made something in her chest tighten. "You're actually kind of brilliant."

He held out his hand, palm up. "Help me with another one? These are driving me crazy."

Maya's heart hammered against her ribs. The bonfire cast everything in warm gold light. Dylan wasn't some untouchable fox anymore. He was just a guy who texted his little sister and got stumped by riddles and thought her weird random knowledge was cool.

"Sure," she said, and somehow, her hair didn't matter anymore.