Stormlight Riddles

The sphinx statue behind the baseball backstop had seen better decades. Its limestone face was weathered down, one ear completely gone, but everyone at Northwood High knew its legend: you whispered your question to it during a lightning storm, and somehow, you'd figure it out.

Which was exactly why I was crouching behind this crumbling monument at 9 PM with my Golden Retriever, Buster, while the varsity team practiced under stadium lights.

"This is pathetic, Buster," I whispered. He thumped his tail against the chainlink fence. "I'm literally asking a rock for courage."

The problem wasn't the baseball tryouts tomorrow — I could crush those. The problem was Emery Chen, the shortstop who somehow made my brain turn into static whenever she looked at me. That one time she'd asked to borrow my glove, I'd accidentally handed her my sweat-stained water bottle instead. Smooth.

A crack of thunder shook the ground. Buster woofed.

"Yeah, big mood, buddy."

Lightning forked across the sky, purple-white and suddenly way too close. The baseball players scattered. I should've been running too, but I just stared at that sphinx's eroded face and blurted it:

"How do I talk to her without being absolutely cringe?"

Something slammed into my shoulder. Emery.

"You talking to Old Bessie again?" She was breathless, rain plastering her black hair to her cheeks, holding her glove like a shield. "My brother says she's cursed."

"She's not cursed. She's just... been here since, like, the 80s."

"Cool." Emery shifted weight. "Hey, you coming to tryouts tomorrow?"

My brain short-circuited. "Uh — yeah. Yeah, I'm—"

"Good." She grinned. "You've got a solid arm. I've seen you throwing with Buster in the park."

Lightning struck again, closer this time. We both jumped. Buster started howling at the sky.

"We should go," Emery said. "Wanna run?"

"Together?"

"Unless you'd rather hang out with your stone friend."

We took off through the rain, dodging puddles, Buster barking joyfully beside us. Behind us, the sphinx sat silent in the stormlight. And maybe it was just the adrenaline or the rain or how Emery kept glancing back to make sure I was keeping up, but I realized the answer hadn't come from the statue at all.

Sometimes you just gotta run into the storm.