The Riddle by the Pool

Maya smoothed her dress for the third time, checking her reflection in the darkened iPhone screen. The pool party at Tyler's house was exactly what she'd expected—everyone clustered in their usual groups, the social pyramid painfully obvious even in backyard lighting. The popular kids lounged on the patio furniture like royalty, while everyone else floated awkwardly around the edges of the pool.

She'd come because Tyler—sweet, confusing Tyler—had actually invited her personally. But now he was nowhere to be found, and Maya was stuck hovering near the snack table, pretending to be deeply interested in a bag of chips.

"Hey."

She jumped. Tyler materialized beside her, looking annoyingly perfect in his swim trunks. "Wanted to show you something."

He led her around the side of the house to where his mom's sculpture collection sat in the garden. There, between a geometric metal piece and some abstract thing, stood an actual Egyptian sphinx reproduction—complete with the classic riddle-inscrutable expression.

"My mom's weirdly into Egyptian art," Tyler explained. "But look at this." He pointed at the stone base, where someone had scratched in tiny letters: *What walks on four legs, then two, then three?*

"The riddle of the sphinx," Maya said. "Man. Easy."

Tyler shook his head, grinning. "That's not it. Think about it—what *literally* walks that way?"

Maya stared at the sphinx, then at him, and suddenly it clicked. "A *baby* walks on four legs. Then two. Then..." Her eyes widened. "A walking stick?"

"Or an old person with a cane. But yeah." Tyler leaned against the sculpture. "My little sister figured that out when she was seven. Made me feel like an idiot."

Something shifted between them—like a barrier dissolving. Tyler wasn't the untouchable popular guy anymore. He was just... Tyler. Someone who got owned by his seven-year-old sister.

"You're not as smooth as you think," Maya said.

He laughed. "You noticed. I was trying to play it cool all night, but honestly? I only invited you because..." He rubbed the back of his neck. "You're the only person who actually laughs at my jokes in English class."

Maya felt her face heat up. "Your jokes are actually funny. Sometimes."

A rustling noise came from the bushes. A fox—red and impossibly sleek—padded into view, regarding them with bright, intelligent eyes before disappearing into the night.

"Did you see that?" Maya whispered.

Tyler nodded. "There's a family that lives in the woods behind our house. They show up sometimes. Like they're watching us."

"Like sphinxes," Maya said. "Judging our riddles."

He laughed, and it was real—not the performative laugh he used at parties. "Want to go back? Or hang out here and pretend we're mystical creatures being observed by foxes?"

"Option B," Maya said immediately. "But first—I'm getting my phone. This needs to be documented."

As she slipped back to grab her iPhone from the patio, Maya glanced at the pyramid of popular kids still holding court by the pool, then at Tyler waiting for her by the sphinx, and felt something like victory. Some riddles, she decided, weren't meant to be solved alone.