The Sphinx at Zombie Hill

Maya's lungs burned as she crested Zombie Hill, her cross country coach's nickname for the brutal incline behind their high school. The freshman tryouts were today, and she'd been **running** since before dawn, her legs feeling like they'd turned to jelly.

"You look like you've seen a **zombie**," called out Leo, a sophomore with ridiculous hair and a perpetual grin. He sat on the giant rock at the summit—never running, always watching. The upperclassmen called it the Sphinx, because Leo would only let people pass if they answered his questions correctly.

Maya doubled over, hands on knees. "Not... now... Leo."

"What has legs but cannot walk?" he asked, spinning a basketball on his finger.

"A table," she panted. "Let me through."

"Wrong. That's Mr. Harrison's desk after third period lunch." He gestured to the rock beside him. "Sit. Take a break from running from whatever you're running from."

Maya hesitated. She'd heard the rumors—Leo sat on the Sphinx every day, watching runners, asking questions that somehow revealed everything.

"I'm not running from anything," she said, sitting anyway.

"Everyone's running from something," Leo said softly. "Freshmen run from middle school. Sophomores run from growing up. Seniors run from the future." He paused. "What are you running from, Maya?"

The question hit harder than Zombie Hill ever could. Maya thought about her parents' divorce, her mom's new boyfriend, the way her bedroom felt smaller every day. She thought about how she'd started running because it was the only time her brain shut up.

"I'm not running," she said finally. "I'm chasing something."

Leo smiled. "Now that's the right answer." He stood up and dusted off his shorts. "Same time tomorrow, Sphinx candidate."

Maya watched him jog away, something warm blooming in her chest. Maybe high school wouldn't be so bad after all. Maybe she'd finally found her pack.