The Riddle at Putt-Putt Paradise

Maya leaned against the **sphinx** statue at hole seven, its painted plaster chipping where generations of kids had climbed it. The wind smelled like ozone and impending rain—classic summer **lightning** storm weather. She checked her phone again. Still no reply from Kai.

Her uncle's mini golf course was dead except for the distant crack of a **baseball** bat from the park next door. That should've been her. She should've been at practice, proving to Coach Martinez she deserved varsity, but instead she'd bailed. Again.

"You okay, kid?" Uncle Tony called from the ticket booth. "That **cable** box acting up again?"

"Yeah, just the static," she lied. The break room TV was fine. Maya was the one glitching.

She felt like a **zombie** these days—going through motions, missing grounders in games, ghosting Kai's texts about college applications. Everyone expected her to have it figured out: sports, grades, future. But the riddle the sphinx wasn't asking was impossible.

What walks on four legs, then two, then three? Easy. But what do you do when you're sixteen and expected to be everything?

The first fat raindrop hit her arm. Then came the thunder.

Her phone buzzed. Kai: "luke's party. u coming?"

Maya typed "idk" and backspaced. Typed "maybe" and deleted. The sphinx stared blankly, its riddle mouth open in a permanent plaster scream.

The truth was, she didn't want to play baseball anymore. Didn't want the parties either. She wanted...

She didn't know.

**Lightning** flashed closer, illuminating the parking lot. And there was Kai, on a bike, hair frizzing in the humidity, grinning like an idiot.

"Coach is gonna kill you for skipping," Kai called.

"I quit."

"Finally?" Kai's grin widened. "Good. Now come on, we're gonna be late."

"Late for what?"

" figuring it out." Kai shrugged. "Together."

The sphinx didn't have an answer. Maybe that was the point.