Sphinx Riddle

Maya stared at the notification on her iPhone screen, thumb hovering.

"Noah likes you 💕" — from Jenna. The same Jenna who'd spent three weeks telling Maya that Noah thought she was weird.

"That's such bull," Maya muttered, shoving her phone deep into her pocket.

She was stuck in the Egyptian exhibit at the museum, surrounded by her sophomore class. The field trip had been her mom's idea—something about "getting out there" after the whole Tyler situation. But Maya had spent the entire day feeling like a statue herself. Frozen. Awkward. Watching everyone else live their actual lives.

The sphinx stared back at her with its stone face, riddles locked behind unmoving lips. Mr. Henderson was going on about how the sphinx guarded secrets, how travelers had to answer correctly or be destroyed. So dramatic. So Mr. Henderson.

Maya zoned out, thinking about Noah's sudden attention. It had started last week—him sitting next to her at lunch, finding excuses to borrow a pen. The old Maya would've been over the moon. Post-Tyler Maya was suspicious. She'd learned the hard way that some people only wanted to decode you so they could use your secrets against you later.

The glass case displayed a miniature pyramid, gold leaf catching the harsh fluorescent lights. Something about pharaohs building monuments to themselves, trying to matter forever. Maya couldn't relate.

At lunch, Noah slid into the seat across from her. All crooked grin and easy confidence.

"So," he said. "Jenna told you?"

"Told me what?" Maya said, even though she knew.

"That I've been trying to figure you out." He leaned in closer. "You're like the sphinx. All mysterious. I never know what you're thinking."

Maya almost laughed. She wasn't mysterious. She was just careful now.

"I'm pretty literal actually," she said. "What you see is what you get."

The bell rang before Noah could respond, which was completely fine with Maya. She grabbed her tray and headed for the door, feeling his eyes on her back.

Her phone buzzed twice in the hallway.

"call him" — Jenna

"give him a chance u deserve 2 be happy" — the group chat

They meant well. But they didn't understand that Maya wasn't ready to be someone's riddle to solve again.

By the time they circled back to the sphinx exhibit on the way out, Maya was socially exhausted.

"Alright everyone," Mr. Henderson announced. "One last thing before we load the bus. The sphinx's famous question: What walks on four legs in the morning, two legs at noon, and three legs in the evening?"

"A human," someone called out. "Baby, adult, old person with a cane."

"Correct! And what does that teach us?"

Maya's phone lit up with another text from Noah: "Can I walk you to your locker Monday?"

She looked at the sphinx one last time, its stone eyes holding secrets. Maybe Mr. Henderson had a point. People changed. Carried different weights at different times.

Right now, Maya was standing on her own two legs. And she didn't need anyone's drama to feel complete.

She typed back: "Let me think about it."

Small steps.

On the bus, Jenna plopped into the seat beside her. "Well? Are you gonna say yes?"

Maya looked out the window at the passing streets, feeling lighter than she had in weeks.

"I said I'd think about it. Jenna, not everything has to be a rom-com moment."

Her friend groaned. "You're so impossible."

"I'm selective," Maya corrected, pulling out her iPhone and putting in her headphones.

The sphinx would understand.