The Sphinx of Lane Four

I felt like a literal zombie walking into the aquatic center at 6 AM. Junior year was eating me alive, and swim tryouts were the last thing my exhausted brain could process.

Then I saw her. The Sphinx of Lane Four.

Chloe Torres, senior, captain of the swim team, and possibly the most intimidating human being at Northwood High. She got the nickname because you couldn't read her expression—ever. Just like that ancient Egyptian statue with the riddles. She'd been undefeated since freshman year, and I was about to embarrass myself in front of her.

My bright orange practice suit probably didn't help. Mom had ordered it online thinking orange would "pop." Yeah, it popped. Like a traffic cone. A traffic cone having a panic attack.

"You're Maya, right?" Chloe appeared beside me, suddenly not-so-statue-like. "Coach mentioned you might join."

I nodded, probably looking like I'd seen a ghost. "Yeah. Hi."

"Nice suit," she said, and I couldn't tell if she was being sarcastic because, well, Sphinx.

Then she cracked a smile. "Seriously. My first year, I wore a neon green one. My mom thought it would help the coaches spot me in the water. They definitely spotted me."

I laughed. It just came out.

"You're not half bad," Chloe said later, after I'd barely survived my laps. "Swimming's mostly about not giving up when your lungs feel like they're staging a rebellion. We've all been there."

That's when it clicked—she wasn't a mythical creature. She was just a senior who'd once been an awkward freshman in a ridiculous suit, trying to figure out who she was, one stroke at a time.

I wasn't a zombie anymore. I was a swimmer. Traffic cone orange and all.