The Riddle at Reynolds' Pool

Maya smoothed her hair for the thousandth time, checking her reflection in the black screen of her iPhone. The party at Reynolds' pool was supposed to be the social event of the summer, but she'd spent the last forty minutes hiding near the snack table, clutching a red plastic cup like it contained the secrets of the universe instead of lukewarm soda.

"You gonna stand there all night or actually get in the pool?" Carter asked, sliding up beside her. He was wearing his baseball jersey even though he wasn't supposed to—Coach would've killed him if he knew Carter was risking injury three weeks before championships. But that was Carter: living like nothing could touch him.

Maya's stomach did that annoying flippy thing it always did when he talked to her. "I'm good. The water's... cold."

"It's eighty degrees out, Maya." He splashed some water at her sneakers. "Live a little."

Fine. She kicked off her sandals and waded in, letting the cool water wash away her anxiety about social hierarchies and who was dating who and why sophomore year felt like one giant never-ending test she hadn't studied for.

That's when she saw it—some kind of wooden decoration thing behind the pool house. Like, a sphinx? At a random suburban pool party? It looked like someone had gotten really into ancient Egypt during lockdown and never stopped.

"What even is that?" Maya pointed.

Carter followed her gaze. "Oh, Mr. Reynolds went through this whole phase last year. Built it himself."

"That's literally the most random thing I've ever seen."

"The real question is," Carter said, swimming closer, "can you solve its riddle?"

Maya laughed. "It's wood, Carter. Not an actual sphinx."

"Maybe. But sometimes things aren't what they look like from the outside." His voice got softer, and suddenly the pool party noise faded into the background. "Like how everyone thinks I'm just some dumb baseball jock, but I actually read philosophy books. Or how you pretend you don't care about being popular, but you check your phone every five minutes like you're waiting for something important to happen."

Maya's face heated up. Was she that transparent?

"Or," Carter continued, "how you think nobody notices you at these things, but I've been watching you all summer."

The sphinx sat silently in the background, its wooden face inscrutable as ever. Maybe it did know something after all.

"Maya?" Carter asked. "You gonna say something, or..."

She pulled her hair back from her face and grinned. "I'm thinking. Sphinxes were supposed to be guardians, right? Maybe this one's just waiting for someone to actually see it."

Carter's smile matched hers. "Yeah. Maybe."