The Riddle at Ryder's Pool

The chlorine hit Maya's nose before she even saw the backyard. Ryder's house. Actual Ryder, whose Instagram stories got 500 views minimum. Maya clutched her Hydro Flask like it was some kind of emotional support animal, even though she'd barely sipped from it all night.

"You came!" Ryder appeared, wearing a skirt over her swimsuit like it was the most normal thing in the world. "Grab a drink. My mom got those weird vitamin waters that taste like fantasy."

"Oh, cool," Maya said, because what else do you say? She'd been taking those gummy hair vitamins for three months and her hair was still doing the exact same frizzy thing it had always done, but nobody needed to know that.

The pool was already chaos—people playing chicken, someone's phone nearly taking a dive, that one sophomore from English class who'd definitely had too much to drink. Maya hovered near the edge, feeling like she'd shown up to the wrong movie mid-scene.

Then she saw The Sphinx.

Okay, her real name was Samara, but everyone called her that because she'd transferred sophomore year and somehow gone months without speaking to anyone except to give these cryptic answers that made you question everything. She sat on the diving board, legs dangling, reading what looked like a textbook.

"Who's that?" Ryder asked, appearing at Maya's elbow.

"Samara."

"Oh, the Sphinx girl." Ryder rolled her eyes. "She's in my AP Lit class. Never says anything. I heard she rejected three people just by blinking at them."

Samara looked up, caught Maya staring, and—this was the weirdest part—smiled.

Maya's stomach did that embarrassing fluttery thing. She started toward the diving board before she could talk herself out of it.

"Hey," she said, and wow, great opening.

Samara closed her book. "Hey. You're Maya, right? You sit behind me in history."

"Oh. You noticed?"

"I notice things." Samara's expression shifted into something playful. "Want to hear something depressing?"

"...sure?"

"This party? I came because I wanted to feel normal. But standing here watching everyone perform their personalities, I realized something." She slipped off the diving board, feet touching the water. "The only thing weirder than being the weird girl is pretending you're not."

The pool lights caught her hair, and Maya suddenly understood why people got so obsessed with old movies—this moment felt cinematic, like she should remember it forever.

"So," Samara said, "wanna get out of here? There's this really terrible diner that makes milkshakes that are literally just ice cream and food dye."

"Like, actual poison?"

"The best kind." She grinned. "I promise not to ask you any riddles."

Maya set her Hydro Flask on a patio chair. "Yeah. Yes. Let's go."