The Riddle at the Deep End

Maya hovered at the edge of the **pool**, clutching her **iPhone** like a lifeline. Three notifications lit up her screen—her friends posting stories without her, again.

"You coming in or what?" Leo called from the water, his hair plastered to his forehead like a wet **fox**.

Maya's heart did that stupid flutter thing. She'd been crushing on Leo since seventh grade, when he'd let her borrow his pen during math and didn't ask for it back for three weeks.

But then there was Sasha—perched on the diving board like she owned it, legs dangling, watching everyone with those knowing eyes. Someone had nicknamed her "the **Sphinx**" last year because she never spoke but always knew everything. Maya had overheard Sasha talking about her once. "She's trying too hard," Sasha had said, not even whispering.

Maya's stomach twisted. She smoothed her bikini bottom, conscious of every inch of herself. The **water** sparkled deceptively calm, but underneath, everything churned.

"Hey." Sasha appeared beside her, sudden and quiet. "You're overthinking it."

Maya jumped. "What?"

"Leo." Sasha cracked a rare smile. "He's been asking about you all week. The riddle's not what you think."

"What riddle?"

"The one you're playing with yourself." Sasha tilted her head. "Everyone thinks you're cool, Maya. You're the only one who doesn't see it."

Before Maya could process that, Leo swam over. "Finally coming in?"

Sasha pushed Maya playfully. "Go. And put down the phone—real life doesn't have notifications."

Maya let her **iPhone** fall onto her towel. She jumped. The **water** shocked her senses, but when she surfaced, Leo was grinning. Sasha watched from the diving board, Sphinx-like and satisfied.

Sometimes the answers weren't riddles at all. Sometimes they were just waiting for you to jump in.