The Sphinx by the Water

The air smelled like chlorine and cheap perfume, that specific Friday night scent of teenage desperation. I stood by the pool, nursing a lukewarm soda, watching Jessica – my former best friend of seven years – laughing with the new crew she'd been ditching me for all month. She caught my eye and did that micro-wave, the one that says "I see you but I'm pretending we're still cool."

"You look like a sphinx," someone said beside me. I jumped. It was Leo, the quiet new kid with messy copper hair that made him look like some kind of fox, always watching everything but saying nothing. His eyes were the color of water at dusk – that strange blue-gray that could be peaceful or terrifying, depending on how the light hit.

"What?" I said, brilliant as always.

"All mysterious and brooding by the pool. Like you're guarding secrets." He splashed water at me with his foot, grinning. "Or maybe you're just hungry. That orange soda looks ancient."

I laughed despite myself. "It's fine. What's your excuse?"

"Hiding from Jessica," he said matter-of-factly. "She tried to set me up with her cousin earlier. Apparently I'm 'exotic.'"

"The curse of the fox hair," I said. "She does that. Matchmaking is her new favorite thing since she decided she's too mature for actual friendship."

He studied me. "You miss her."

"She's literally five feet away."

"You know what I mean."

The pool lights flickered on, turning the water into this impossible blue, like something from a dream. And suddenly I didn't want to be the sphinx anymore, guarding ancient grudges by the deep end.

"Yeah," I said. "I do. But I'm supposed to be too cool to care. That's the code, right?"

Leo shrugged. "Or you could just go tell her that. Worst case, she laughs at you. Best case..." He trailed off, that fox-like grin returning. "Well, you'd be surprised what happens when you stop guarding secrets and start asking questions."

He wandered off toward the snack table, leaving me alone with my orange soda and the realization that maybe the riddle wasn't about why Jessica left. Maybe it was about why I was still standing by the pool, watching everyone else live.

I took a breath, ditched the soda, and headed toward the laughter. The water was just water, after all. It was the jumping in that mattered.