The Fox's Riddle

Maya's older cousin told her high school parties were basically social minefields, but this one felt different. Mostly because she was hiding behind the snack table, clutching a papaya smoothie like it was a lifeline.

"You gonna swim or what?" someone asked.

Maya jumped. It was Leo, the guy from her history class who always sat in the back, wearing that vintage fox sweatshirt. She'd caught him watching her sometimes—or maybe she was imagining it. Her brain did that lately, turning everything into Potential Moments.

"Maybe," she said, because the real answer was: no way, she'd rather die than be seen in her two-piece that felt approximately three sizes too small.

Leo nodded at the pool, where cable snaked across the patio, connected to a speaker blasting something that sounded like it was recorded in a garage. "My brother's DJ set. It's terrible, right?"

Maya laughed. For real. "That's putting it mildly."

He grinned, and something in her chest did that stupid flippy thing. "Wanna help me with something? There's this, like, situation."

A situation. At a high school party. This could go anywhere.

"Sure?"

He led her to the garage, where a cardboard box sat in the corner. Inside was a sphinx figurine—like, seriously, a full-on Egyptian statue thing, about the size of a cat. Leo looked at her like this was normal.

"My dad's weird hobby. He says it holds the family wisdom, but I think it's just heavy. Help me move it before my mom finds out I took it from his office?"

Maya stared at him. "You stole your dad's sphinx?"

"Borrowed. Indefinitely."

They lugged it to the backyard, wheezing with laughter when they nearly dropped it in the hydrangeas. By the time they collapsed on the patio chairs, Maya's papaya smoothie was warm and her hair was frizzy and she didn't even care.

"You know," Leo said, suddenly quiet, "my brother says the trick to parties is finding the one person who's also not having it. Then you're both not alone."

He looked at her then, really looked at her, and Maya felt seen in a way that made her want to cry and throw up and also maybe kiss him, but she'd never kissed anyone and didn't even know how to start.

Instead she said, "Your brother's deep for someone playing that music."

Leo cracked up. And then, without asking, he reached for her hand.

His palm was sweaty and so was hers, but his fingers threaded through hers like he'd been practicing. Maya's heart went swimming in her chest, doing laps around her ribs, and she thought: okay. Maybe high school parties weren't so bad after all.

As long as you found the right person to hide with.