The Sphinx at Third Base

The party was dead when I got there, but that was kind of the point. Maya's older brother had left his Egyptian history project scattered across the backyard, and there it was: a cardboard sphinx with googly eyes that somehow managed to look more judgmental than my mom when I forgot to clean my room.

"You look like you're about to puke," observed Liam, leaning against the porch railing with the effortless confidence of someone who'd already figured out that high school was basically just a glorified pyramid scheme where the currency was hype and the product was misery.

I was about to come up with some snappy response when Riley appeared, freshly off the baseball field, cleats clicking against the patio stones like she owned the place. Which, technically, she kind of did. Her house, her party, her legendary ability to make my brain short-circuit with zero effort.

"Hey," she said, like this was normal. Like we didn't both know I'd been crushing on her since seventh grade gym class when she'd hit a home run and I'd accidentally cheered way too loud.

"Hey," I managed, probably sounding like a strangled cat. Which was unfortunate, considering her actual cat, Mittens, was currently winding around my legs and judging me harder than the sphinx.

"Wanna play catch?" She held up a baseball like it was the most natural thing in the world. "Ben's being boring and went inside to play video games."

Her golden retriever, Buster, bounded over at this point, nearly knocking me into the googly-eyed sphinx, because apparently the universe had decided tonight was all about orchestrating my maximum awkwardness.

"Sure," I said, like this wasn't basically my entire middle school fantasy coming true.

We ended up in the backyard, her throwing the ball with casual precision that made my stomach do backflips. The sphinx watched us with its googly eyes, somehow managing to look both supportive and deeply disappointed in my catching skills.

"You know," Riley said, suddenly serious, "the sphinx was supposed to be this guardian of secrets. Riddles and stuff."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah." She grinned, tossing the ball higher. "Sometimes I feel like everything's just one big riddle we're all trying to figure out. Like, who actually likes who, what everything means, why everyone pretends to have it together."

The sun was setting behind her, painting everything in gold and pink, and for a second, the pyramid of school social dynamics didn't feel so crushing. Just me, Riley, a baseball, and a cardboard sphinx that had somehow become the unlikely witness to maybe not the worst moment of my life.

"Yeah," I said, and actually meant it. "But at least we're figuring it out together."