The Sphinx in the Living Room

My orange hair was supposed to be rebellious. Brave. Instead, I spent the entire party hovering near the tangled mass of coaxial cables behind the TV, avoiding eye contact with anyone who wasn't directly related to me or legally obligated to speak to me.

"You look like you're hiding from the apocalypse," a voice said.

I jumped. Leo stood there, holding a red Solo cup like it was a ceremonial artifact. Everyone called him the Sphinx because he posted cryptic captions on his Instagram stories and never spoke much at school. He was also, inconveniently, the most beautiful human being I had ever seen in my sixteen years of life.

"Just hiding from my own awkwardness," I said, because my brain-to-mouth filter had apparently left the building.

The Sphinx laughed. "Your hair looks like fire. It's awesome."

I touched my self-inflicted orange strands self-consciously. "Thanks. My mom said I looked like a traffic cone."

"Your mom has no vision." He leaned against the wall, shoulder brushing mine. "I'm Leo, by the way. Even though everyone calls me Sphinx."

"Maya," I said. "And I know who you are."

His eyebrows went up. "You do?"

"You're the guy who posted that riddle last week. The one about what has keys but no locks." I'd spent twenty minutes googling it instead of studying for my history test.

"A piano," he said, smiling now. "You got it?"

"Eventually."

We spent the next hour talking while people streamed past us, none of them noticing the quiet revolution happening behind the TV. Leo told me he only posted riddles because he was tired of everyone performing happiness online. I confessed I'd dyed my hair orange because I wanted to stop being the girl who always blended into beige walls.

"You don't blend," Leo said. "You're the brightest thing in here."

My phone buzzed in my pocket - probably my dad wondering where I was. I ignored it.

"So," Leo said, "what's the answer to this one: I'm not alive, but I grow; I don't have lungs, but I need air; what am I?"

I thought about it, really thought about it, for the first time all night feeling sharp instead of scattered. "Fire."

"See?" He bumped my shoulder with his. "You're smarter than you give yourself credit for."

Somewhere between the cable mountain and the kitchen, I stopped being Traffic Cone Maya and started being whoever this new person was — someone who talked to beautiful boys about riddles, someone who maybe, just maybe, didn't need to hide anymore.

"Hey," Leo said, pulling something from his pocket. A cable — my missing phone charger, which I'd sacrificed to the cable tangle earlier. "I found it under the sofa."

Our fingers brushed. Electric.

"Thanks," I said, and my voice didn't shake at all.

The Sphinx smiled, and for the first time that night, I felt like I'd finally solved something worth figuring out.