The Riddle Behind the Bleachers

Maya's cat jersey was practically fluorescent against the faded gym bleachers. That's what happened when your mom bought the discount version at the supermarket instead of the actual school color. Freshman year was basically one long exercise in not dying of embarrassment.

"Nice orange," Jordan said, dropping onto the bench beside her. His eyes did that annoying flicker thing—checking if anyone was watching them talk. "Very... vibrant."

"Shut up," Maya muttered, pulling her knees to her chest. "At least I didn't spill chocolate milk all over my white jeans in third period like SOME people."

Jordan's face flushed the exact shade of her shirt. "That was a total accident. And Ryan's being a dick about it."

"Ryan's always a dick."

"He said I'm like a human sphinx now." Jordan groaned, letting his head thump back against the bleachers. "You know, all mysterious and riddle-like because I won't tell everyone what happened. Even though it was literally just—"

"—chocolate milk?" Maya finished.

"Exactly. But apparently I'm now 'keeping secrets' and being 'weirdly cryptic' about it." He turned to her, something hopeful in his expression. "You think I should just tell everyone?"

Maya considered this. She thought about how Jordan had defended her when Kyle made fun of her cat backpack last week. How he sat with her at lunch when her friends were being flaky. How his hand had brushed against hers when they were walking to bio, and neither of them had pulled away.

"Nah," she said. "Let them wonder. Being mysterious is way more interesting than being the kid who had a milk accident."

Jordan cracked a smile. "So we're letting the legend grow?"

"We're letting the legend grow."

Her cat backpack beeped—her mom calling to pick up groceries. Maya stood up, orange jersey blazing, and Jordan stood with her, like maybe he'd walk her to the parking lot even though it was totally out of his way.

"Hey," he said, "you know that riddle about what walks on four legs in the morning, two in the afternoon, three in the evening?"

"That's so random."

"I'm just saying." He grinned. "I think I figured out the answer."

"Oh yeah? What's that?"

"People." He stepped closer. "They change."

Maya's heart did this stupid little skip. "Yeah," she said. "I guess they do."

She walked toward the parking lot, and Jordan followed, and somewhere between the gym doors and the sidewalk, their hands found each other, and the orange jersey didn't feel embarrassing anymore. It felt like armor. It felt like the beginning of something that didn't need a riddle to explain it.