The Sphinx's Secret

I never meant to be a creep. But when your crush plays padel every Tuesday at 4 PM, and you happen to be walking past the courts every Tuesday at 4 PM, are you really spying or just... existing?

Okay, maybe I was spying.

The problem wasn't that Carlos was annoyingly good at padel. The problem was that he was annoyingly good at EVERYTHING. Perfect grades. Perfect hair. Perfect laugh that made me forget my own name.

Then there was Maya. Everyone called her "the Sphinx" because she'd moved here three months ago and had spoken approximately twelve words total. She sat alone at lunch, dark eyes watching everything like she was solving a riddle no one else had noticed.

"You're going to fall off that fence," said Sphinx.

I yelped and nearly did exactly that. She'd appeared behind me like a ghost.

"I'm just... appreciating the architecture," I lied.

Her lip twitched. "The architecture, or the way Carlos serves?"

My face burned. "You saw?"

"Everyone sees." She adjusted her backpack. "You know what his problem is?"

"Besides being perfect?"

"He thinks he has to bear the weight of everyone's expectations." Sphinx actually smiled - tiny, but real. "My brother says he cracks under pressure. You should sign up for the mixed doubles tournament next week."

"Me? Have you met me? I trip walking up stairs."

"Exactly." She started walking away. "Sometimes being clumsy makes people human. Carlos needs human."

So I did it. I signed up. And somehow, somehow, Carlos said yes when I asked him to partner with me.

We didn't win. We got absolutely destroyed. But when I tripped over my own racket and faceplanted onto the court, Carlos didn't laugh. He helped me up, dirt on my chin and dignity in shreds, and said, "That was legendary."

We're dating now. And Sphinx? She talks plenty when it's just us. Turns out some riddles aren't meant to be solved - they're meant to become friends.