Riddles on Repeat

The freshman hallway smelled like overcooked pizza and desperation. Maya clutched her iPhone like it was a lifeline, doomscrolling through TikToks to avoid eye contact. Three days until the Spring Showcase and she'd landed the role of the Sphinx—literally, in Ms. Halloway's bizarre adaptation of *Oedipus Rex* set in modern-day high school. The irony wasn't lost on anyone: the quiet girl who couldn't even ask to use the bathroom was now playing the creature famous for impossible riddles.

At home, her pet goldfish Gilligan floated near the surface of his bowl, doing that thing where he looked at her with what she swore was judgment. "You're gonna crash and burn, aren't you?" she muttered, sprinkling flakes. Gilligan blew bubbles. Maya blew out a breath and stared at her script—the Sphinx's big monologue about truth and lies and how teenagers wear masks like costumes.

Her phone buzzed. Marcus, the junior playing Oedipus, had tagged her in an Instagram story: *rehearsal twins???* with a mirror selfie of both of them mid-sentence, looking exhausted. Maya's stomach did that weird flip thing. He'd been strangely supportive during practice, not making fun of her when she froze during Act Two.

The night before the show, Maya couldn't sleep. She ended up running laps around her neighborhood at 2 AM, AirPods in, breath visible in the streetlights. Running until her legs burned, until the lines stopped swirling in her head. She collapsed on her front lawn, staring up at the stars, and realized something: the Sphinx wasn't about knowing the answers. It was about asking the right questions.

Showtime. The spotlight hit her and she felt that familiar panic rising—but then she locked eyes with Marcus backstage, and he mouthed *you got this*. Maya straightened her costume wings and stepped forward, really looked at the audience, and delivered her opening line not as some mystical creature but as herself: "The answer isn't what you think it is. The answer is who you are."

Afterward, Marcus found her behind the auditorium, where she'd escaped to avoid the post-show chaos. "You killed it," he said, leaning against the brick wall. "Like, actually killed it. The whole 'sphinx' energy, but make it emo."

Maya laughed, surprised by how light she felt. "Thanks. My goldfish helped."

"Your what now?" Marcus raised an eyebrow, but he was smiling.

"Long story." Maya tapped her iPhone against her palm, then slipped it into her pocket without checking it. "Want to walk to 7-Eleven? I need to decompress."

"Only if you promise to tell me the goldfish story on the way."

"Deal."

The spring air was cool, the sidewalk stretched out ahead of them, and for the first time in forever, Maya wasn't running away from anything. She was just walking toward something new.