The Riddle of Saturday Night

Maya's iphone buzzed in her pocket—her third notification from the group chat in five minutes. Jason's party. The one everyone would be talking about on Monday. She adjusted her fox ears in the bathroom mirror, feeling ridiculous. Her mom had suggested the costume, something about being clever and quick, but right now Maya just felt like an impostor.

When she arrived, the basement was already packed. The air smelled like cheap cologne and fruit punch. Near the speakers, Connor was dressed as a zombie, complete with face paint that had started smearing. He looked dead tired even without the costume—basketball practice plus finals week would do that to you.

"Hey Maya!" Sarah waved from the kitchen, looking effortlessly perfect in a vintage dress she'd thrifted. "Jason's doing this sphinx riddle thing. Top shelf stuff if you can solve it."

Great. Maya hated riddles almost as much as she hated how comfortable Sarah looked in her own skin. Some people just had it—that natural confidence, like they'd never had a single awkward moment in their lives.

She found Jason holding court by the snacks. He was wearing a bear costume that was somehow charming instead of weird, probably because Jason could wear a trash bag and people would still think it was iconic. His friends laughed at something he said, that careful laugh people use when they want someone important to like them.

"Okay, serious question," Jason announced, catching her eye. "What walks on four legs in the morning, two legs at noon, and three legs in the evening? First person to answer gets the premium soda stash."

A sphinx riddle. Really? Maya almost rolled her eyes before she remembered: normal people didn't memorize mythology books at age twelve because they had no friends.

"A person," she said. "Crawling as a baby, walking as an adult, using a cane when you're old."

The room went quiet for half a second. Jason's eyebrows went up. "Damn, Maya. Didn't know you were a genius."

She shrugged, feeling her face get warm. "Just read a lot."

"Well, come get your prize." He tossed her a root beer, and when their fingers brushed, Maya's stomach did that stupid flip thing. "And nice ears, by the way. Clever and cute."

Her phone buzzed again—probably the group chat losing it over something pointless—but Maya didn't check. For the first time all night, she wasn't thinking about fitting in. She was just here, really here, fox ears and root beer and someone thinking she was clever. It wasn't perfect, but maybe that was okay. Maybe the trick wasn't becoming someone else—it was figuring out who you actually were and finding people who liked that person, zombie face paint and all.