The Sphinx's Riddle

Maya's hair refused to cooperate. She'd spent forty-five minutes trying to tame the frizz before Jordan's party, and now she looked like she'd stuck her finger in an electrical socket. Again.

"You look fine," her little brother Leo said, not looking up from his phone. His cat, Luna, wound around his ankles like a living comma.

"Easy for you to say. You're not trying to impress the guy who's been your lab partner for three months without saying more than 'pass the beaker.'"

"Pass the beaker," Luna meowed.

"Shut up."

The family dog, Barnaby, chose that moment to zoom through the hallway like a furry missile, knocking over Maya's carefully positioned backpack.

"BARNABY!"

The dog skidded to a halt, looking innocent.

"Great. Now I have to walk in there looking like I just survived a natural disaster."

Maya's mom appeared in the doorway. "Jordan's here!"

Panic. Absolute panic.

Jordan stood on the porch, looking effortlessly put together in that way some people just did. Maya felt like she'd been spying on his life from the distance of assigned lab seats, piecing together fragments from Instagram posts and overheard conversations. Now here he was, three feet away.

"Hey," Jordan said. "You ready?"

"Yeah. Just. Let me grab my jacket."

Inside the car, the silence felt heavy. Maya's brain went full sphinx mode—pose an impossible riddle, wait for someone to fail. What was she supposed to say? Hey, I've been lowkey spying on your social media for months? Wow, your hair looks good? Would you like to hear my twelve-step plan for this evening?

"So," Jordan said, flipping through radio stations. "Your brother said you're trying to figure out what to major in."

Maya's brain short-circuited. "He WHAT?"

"Relax, I'm kidding. But seriously, what are you thinking?"

The sphinx's riddle dissolved. Suddenly it wasn't about performing, or having the right answers, or whether her hair was behaving. It was just Jordan, asking a question.

"I don't know," she said, and something loosened in her chest. "Maybe psychology? I like figuring out why people do what they do."

"That's cool. My sister's in psych. She says it's basically just learning to call out your family's issues in professional language."

Maya laughed. It wasn't perfect. Her hair was still doing its own thing, and she was still overthinking everything. But for once, the sphinx didn't seem so scary. Sometimes the riddle's answer was just showing up.

"Hey Jordan?"

"Yeah?"

"Thanks for noticing me. Beyond lab partners, I mean."

He grinned. "I've been trying to work up the nerve to talk to you for weeks. Your brother said you've been spying on my Instagram, by the way."

"I'M GOING TO KILL HIM."