The Riddle in the Hallway

Maya pulled her beanie down lower, covering the dark circles that had basically become permanent residents under her eyes. Four hours of sleep. Again. She was basically a **zombie** functioning on caffeine and hope.

"You look rough," said Jordan, falling into step beside her at his locker. Her **friend** since third grade, now somehow transformed into a varsity jacket-wearing stranger who still remembered her coffee order.

"Rough doesn't cover it." Maya adjusted her **hat** — a black beanie that had become her security blanket, her armor against the world. "I think my mom's new **vitamin** regimen is actually making me more tired. She's got me taking these giant horse pills that supposedly help with 'teen brain development.'"

Jordan laughed, and for a second, it was like old times. But then his girlfriend Chloe appeared, sliding her arm through his like she owned the place.

Maya's stomach twisted. This was it — the **sphinx** in the hallway, the riddle she couldn't solve. How did you keep your best friend when everything between you was changing? When had they started becoming different people?

"We're going to the game tonight," Chloe said, not unkindly. "You should come."

Maya almost said yes. Almost pretended she was the kind of person who enjoyed loud crowds and football and pretending everything was fine.

Instead, she heard herself say, "Nah. I've got... stuff."

Jordan's eyes flickered with something — disappointment? Relief? She couldn't read him anymore.

"Maybe next time," he said.

"Yeah. Maybe."

Maya walked away, pulling her hat down even further. Some riddles weren't meant to be solved in a day. But for the first time in forever, she thought maybe that was okay. Not everything needed answers right now. She'd figure it out — eventually, on enough sleep to feel human again.