The Riddle of Jordan's Basement

I am officially a zombie. Like, actual walking dead status. It's 3:47 AM at Jordan's basement gaming marathon, and I've been running on Mountain Dew and adrenaline for approximately twelve hours too long.

"You good, bro?" Jordan asks, pausing the mythological RPG we've been stuck on for hours.

"Yeah, just zoning," I lie, sitting up straighter. Because how do I admit that I'm not tired from the game—I'm exhausted from overthinking every single interaction with Mia, who's currently asleep on the beanbag chair three feet away?

We reach the Sphinx level. Again. This mythical puzzle boss has been haunting us all weekend, asking riddles that make zero sense at 4 AM. The Sphinx's glowing eyes stare us down from the TV screen.

"What walks on four legs in the morning, two at noon, three in the evening?" the game narrator intones dramatically.

"A human," Mia mumbles, half-asleep but somehow still annoyingly perfect. "It's from actual Greek mythology. It's literally the most famous riddle ever."

Jordan and I stare at her. Then at each other. Then we both simultaneously realize we've been overthinking this for hours while she casually dropped knowledge from freshman year English class like it was nothing.

"Wait, YOU knew that the WHOLE TIME?" I practically shout, waking her up fully.

She shrugs, wiping sleep from her eyes. "I thought you guys knew. I thought you were, like, roleplaying or something."

And that's when it hits me—like lightning, sudden and blinding. I've been making everything complicated. The game. The night. Mia.

I'd been treating her like she's some sphinx with a secret code to crack, when she's just... Mia. Who reads mythology books for fun and falls asleep during games and somehow knows all the answers without even trying.

"You're ridiculous," she says, but she's smiling. Not the fake polite smile she gives everyone at school. The real one.

"Yeah," I say, finally letting myself be tired and honest and everything else I've been holding back. "Yeah, I am."

Jordan groans. "Are you two gonna flirt or finish this level? Some of us are trying to beat this game before sunrise."

We both laugh. And maybe it's the exhaustion talking, but when Mia leans her shoulder against mine to grab the controller, I think maybe being a zombie isn't the worst thing in the world. Not if you're a zombie with your people. Not when the riddle finally makes sense.