The Sphinx's Last Riddle

Three days of finals. Four hours of sleep each night. I was basically a **zombie** shuffling through the cafeteria, my brain feeling like overcooked oatmeal. But Maya was there, sliding a tray across from me with that look—the one that said we were about to do something spectacularly dumb.

"You ready for the **sphinx**?" she asked, chewing on a bagel.

The sphinx was Mr. Harrison's AP English final—a massive stone statue replica he'd wheeled into the classroom with a note: *Solve this riddle, pass my class. Fail, and you'll repeat junior year.* The whole school was freaking out about it. Instagram was 90% kids posing with the statue, making jokes about eating people who couldn't identify themes in *The Great Gatsby*.

"My mom gave me these focus **vitamin** things," I said, pulling a colorful gummy from my pocket. "Supposed to boost brain power by like 200%."

Maya snorted. "That's absolute **bull**, and you know it."

"Worth a shot."

"No," she said, leaning in. "I figured it out. The riddle. I was up till 3 AM reading about Egyptian mythology and—"

"Wait, seriously?"

"The answer's 'metamorphosis,'" she whispered. "It's about change. About how we're all becoming something else, and the sphinx guards that threshold. It's not about Oedipus or whatever—it's about us. About right now."

I stared at her. Sometimes Maya would drop these philosophical bombs that made me forget I was a exhausted mess who'd eaten nothing but Pop-Tarts for 72 hours.

"That's... actually brilliant."

"I know, right?" She grinned, then her face softened. "But I'm scared to say it. What if I'm wrong? What if I look stupid in front of everyone?"

That's when it hit me—Maya Chen, who'd literally started a club just to roast the administration, who wore mismatched socks on purpose, who gave zero fricks what anyone thought—was scared. And honestly? That made me feel better about my own mess.

"Hey," I said. "We'll do it together. If it's wrong, we're wrong together. If it's right, we're legends."

She smiled, and it was this tiny, genuine thing that made my stomach do something annoying and teenage.

"Deal."

The sphinx didn't stand a chance.