The Library Sphinx's Last Riddle

Maya dragged herself into third period, feeling like a total zombie after staying up until 3 AM finishing her AP Euro presentation. Her phone buzzed — text from Jaz: "u look dead. coffee?" Maya shot back "literally one" and mentally added: fourth time this week.

For weeks, she'd been low-key spying on the senior who sat by the library's brass sphinx during lunch. Golden-boy Ethan, who somehow managed varsity track AND academic team AND still had that effortless vibe everyone at Northwood High either wanted or wanted to be. Maya had it bad, and she knew it.

The sphinx — this creepy-cool statue some donor gifted in the 90s — had become her unspoken rendezvous point. She'd strategically position herself three tables away, book open, stealing glances like she was conducting actual surveillance. Pathetic? Maybe. Effective? Also no.

"You gonna talk to him, or just intensely observe from afar forever?" Jaz asked, sliding into the seat beside her with two pumpkin spice lattes. "This spy routine is getting weird, bestie."

"I'm not being a spy, I'm being... observant," Maya protested, but Jaz was already up and marching toward Ethan.

Maya's heart hammered. This was it — social suicide via best friend intervention. But then Jaz was pointing back at her, and Ethan was looking up, smiling, and walking over.

"Your friend says you can help me with the sphinx riddle," he said, sliding into the chair Jaz had vacated. Up close, he smelled like cedar and worn paperback. "I'm trying to figure out what it actually means — you know, beyond the mythology stuff."

The riddle. The one etched into the statue's base: *What walks on four legs in the morning, two at noon, and three in evening?*

"It's about growing up," Maya said, surprising herself. "Morning is childhood, noon is adulthood, evening is old age with a cane. We're all in the noon phase right now — figuring out who we are, who we want to be. It's the hardest part."

Ethan nodded slowly, really listening. "That's... actually profound. I've been overthinking it for weeks."

"I overthink everything," Maya said. "It's my brand."

He laughed. "Same. Hey, want to study together tomorrow? I could use someone who actually gets this stuff."

Maya's zombie brain registered: Ethan. Tomorrow. Together.

"Yeah," she managed. "I'd like that."

As he walked away, Jaz reappeared like the chaos agent she was. "Told you the spy game wasn't working. Direct approach always wins."