Summer of Broken Riddles

The padel court at the rec center smelled like old rubber and teenage desperation. Jordan wiped sweat from his forehead, his paddle grip slick. Across the net, Maya smashed the ball, her fierce ponytail whipping like a weapon.

"You're running everywhere today," she teased. "Nervous about something?"

Jordan's phone buzzed in his pocket. *The Sphinx.* That's what they called the anonymous account that had been DM-ing everyone at Northwood High with secrets—real ones. Things nobody else could know.

Later, at Maya's friend's pool party, Jordan found himself pressed against the side of the deck, watching water ripple like distorted reality. The Sphinx had messaged him: *Maya's been talking about you behind your back. Something big.*

Maya slid into the pool beside him, droplets clustering on her eyelashes. "You've been weird all summer."

"Have I?"

"Jordan." She reached for his hand underwater. "We've been best friends since seventh grade. You think I don't know when something's off?"

The Sphinx's latest DM burned in his mind: *She's the one who posted those photos from spring break. Ask her about the sphinx emoji in the group chat.*

Jordan pulled away, treading water in the deep end. "Are we actually friends? Or am I just... convenient?"

Maya's face fell. "What?"

"The Sphinx account." The words tasted like betrayal. "They said you posted those pics from Marco's party. The ones that got Alex suspended."

Silence stretched like a taut string. Finally, Maya whispered, "You believed some random account over me?"

"They knew things!"

"Jordan." She swam closer, water sloshing between them. "I AM The Sphinx."

He blinked. "What?"

"I created it because nobody was talking about anything real anymore!" She sighed. "I posted the pics because Alex was harassing girls at that party and nobody was doing anything about it. I wanted him exposed, not suspended." Her voice broke. "But I never meant to hurt you. The stuff about me talking behind your back? I made that up to see if you'd trust me. And you didn't."

Jordan's chest hollowed out. The running he'd been doing all summer—from his suspicions, from the truth, from this conversation—caught up with him.

"I'm sorry," he said. "I should've asked."

"Yeah." Maya splashed water at him. "You should've. But hey, at least we're still playing padel tomorrow?"

Jordan managed a small smile. "Only if you go easy on me."

"Never." She grinned. "That's what best friends are for."