The Riddle at Maya's Door

Maya stared at her reflection, fingers tangling in her curly hair. Freshman year was two weeks in and she still felt like everyone else had gotten the manual on how to be a teenager while she'd been skipped.

"You ready?" Her mom called from downstairs.

Maya grabbed her favorite beanie—the one with the tiny embroidered cactus—and tugged it over her hair. Her security hat. Without it, she felt exposed.

The neighbor's golden retriever, Buster, bounded toward her as she stepped outside. He was jumping against the fence like a maniac, and okay, maybe she related to the dog more than she'd admit.

"Maya! Wait up!"

She turned to see Liam jogging toward her, hair still wet from a shower. Cute Liam, who'd sat behind her in homeroom and actually laughed at her deadpan comment about the school's motivational poster.

"Hey," she managed.

"Forgot this," he said, holding out her phone charger cable. She'd left it in the library yesterday when they'd both been killing time during study hall. Their fingers brushed as she took it, and her stomach did this absolutely pathetic flutter thing.

"Thanks. You coming to Alex's thing tonight?"

"Yeah, you?"

"Maybe. Not sure if I'm socially prepared."

Liam laughed. "Nobody's socially prepared for Alex's parties. That's the point."

By midnight, Maya was hiding in the backyard with a solo cup of something that tasted like regret, watching Buster dig holes under the fence. A sphinx. That's what she felt like—some ancient mythical creature who couldn't even figure out the riddle of normal human conversation.

"There you are."

Liam dropped onto the grass beside her. The party noise swelled and faded behind them.

"You okay?"

"Just thinking about sphinxes," she said, and immediately wanted to die.

"Sphinxes?"

"You know. Riddles. Secrets. Things that don't make sense until you figure them out."

Liam was quiet for a moment. Then he said, "You know, my dog ate my homework once. Literally. Last semester."

"That's not a riddle. That's just tragic."

"I guess what I'm saying is—" he stopped, started again. "Nobody knows what they're doing. We're all just making it up."

Maya pulled off her hat and let her hair spring free. The cool air felt good on her scalp.

"Yeah," she said. "I guess we are."

They sat there until the party started winding down, and somewhere along the way, their shoulders touched. Neither of them moved away. The riddle, she decided, wasn't about solving anything. It was about sitting with the questions.