The Sphinx of Court Four

The sun beat down on the outdoor padel court as Leo gripped his racquet, palms sweating. This was supposed to be casual Friday hangouts with his best friend, but ever since Maya had made varsity tennis, everything felt like a test.

"You're standing like a confused flamingo," she called from across the net, laughing. But her eyes kept darting toward the pool area where the popular kids lounged.

The padel coach—everyone called him The Bull because he charged through drills like a rampaging animal—blew his whistle. "Less chatting, more swinging!"

Leo's first serve sailed into the fence. Perfect.

After practice, they found their usual spot by the pool. Maya dove in while Leo sat on the edge, legs in the water. That's when he noticed it—the weird sphinx statue by the equipment shed, wearing someone's lost sunglasses. Someone had taped a note to its base: *Solve this riddle by sunset or everyone learns what really happened at Katie's party.*

Maya popped up beside him. "What's that?"

"Nothing," Leo said, suddenly protective. The sphinx's painted eyes seemed to mock him. Everyone knew about Katie's party. Everyone except Leo, because he'd been too nervous to go. The lie he'd told—that he was sick—had been weak even then.

The riddle was simple, almost insultingly so. But the real test wasn't the answer. It was whether he'd finally admit the truth: that he'd bailed because he was terrified of looking uncool, of saying the wrong thing, of not being enough.

He stood up, water dripping from his shorts. "Hey Maya?"

She treaded water, waiting.

"I wasn't sick that night. I just—I chickened out."

Maya's expression softened. "Dude. I know. We all get nervous."

Leo exhaled. "Also, you totally stood me up for lunch yesterday to hang with Tyler."

"Fair." She grinned. "Want to hit the pool again?"

The sphinx kept its secrets. Some answers, Leo realized, you had to speak into existence before they could set you free.