The Riddle of Maya Chen

The first day of sophomore year, Maya Chen became the **sphinx** of Westwood High—not because she was mysterious, but because she literally sat on the steps near the cafeteria like a stone creature, unreadable and ancient. Every day at lunch, while the rest of us zombie-walked through the hallway with our backpacks dragging and our eyes half-closed from staying up until 2 AM scrolling TikToks or finishing AP Bio worksheets, she just perched there reading books with covers in languages I couldn't identify.

"She's so intimidating," whispered Jessica, my best friend since sixth grade, as we navigated the lunch line. "Like, she never talks to anyone. I bet she's secretly genius-level smart or something."

I just shrugged, trying to act casual even though my stomach did that stupid fluttery thing whenever Maya glanced up from her book. Which was exactly never.

Until the day I forgot my lunch money and had to buy those sad, overpriced snacks from the vending machine. The machine ate my dollar—of course it did—so I ended up sitting on the steps near Maya, clutching a single **orange** I'd found in my backpack, probably from three days ago. My mom's weird **vitamin** obsession had finally paid off.

"That's been in there since Tuesday, hasn't it?" a voice said.

I jumped. Maya was actually looking at me, her dark eyes crinkled with something like amusement.

"Uh, yeah," I managed. "Want it?"

She shook her head. "I'm good. But thanks for the offer. Most people pretend I don't exist."

"Well, you're kind of terrifying," I blurted out, then immediately wanted to die. "I mean, not terrifying-terrifying, just... mysterious? Like, in a cool way? I'm just gonna stop talking now."

Maya laughed, and the sound was so unexpected and genuine that something in my chest twisted. "I get that a lot. I'm actually just really awkward with new people. And I like these steps. Good lighting for reading."

"So you're not secretly an ancient being who will ask me riddles?"

"Only on Tuesdays," she deadpanned, then smiled. "I'm Maya."

"Alex."

"Nice to meet you, Alex. Want to share that ancient orange before it achieves sentience?"

We sat there for the rest of lunch, talking about everything and nothing, and I realized that sometimes the things that seem most intimidating are just people waiting for someone to sit down next to them. The zombie horde in the hallway kept walking past, oblivious, but for the first time, I didn't feel like one of them.