The Vitamin Water Sphinx

Maya stared at the orange vending machine in the school hallway, willing it to accept her crumpled dollar. Behind her, someone cleared their throat.

"You're doing it wrong," said a voice like warm honey.

Maya turned and froze. It was Sphinx—that's what everyone called the new girl, because of her mysterious aura and those intense, knowing eyes that seemed to see right through everyone's fake Instagram personas. Her real name was apparently Cleo, but Sphinx fit better.

"The machine eats bills on Tuesdays," Sphinx continued, leaning against the lockers. "School board conspiracy to make us use the app. Which tracks our purchases."

Maya's stomach did that embarrassing flutter thing. "Thanks."

"You buying that orange vitamin water?" Sphinx raised an eyebrow. "Because I hate to break it to you, but that's basically sugar water with a marketing budget."

Maya felt her face heat up. "It's for track practice. Coach says we need extra vitamin C."

"Coach also says carbs are the enemy, yet I saw him eating a bagel this morning." Sphinx pushed off the locker and stepped closer. "I have actual orange slices. And I'm not saying they're magical, but they haven't been sitting in a plastic bottle since the Bush administration."

Maya laughed before she could stop herself. Sphinx's lip quirked—almost a smile.

"I'm Maya, by the way. Not that you asked."

"I know who you are, Maya." Sphinx's eyes softened. "You're the only person who actually clapped for the freshman kid when he fell during the assembly last week. That's rare here."

Maya's pulse skipped. "You noticed that?"

"I notice everything." Sphinx reached into her bag and pulled out a Tupperware container. "Want an orange? No conspiracies attached."

Maya took one, their fingers brushing for half a second. The orange was perfect—bright, fresh, real.

"Thanks, Sphinx."

"It's Cleo, actually." The almost-smile became real. "But Sphinx works. Riddles included."

"What riddles?"

Cleo's dark eyes sparkled. "Like why the prettiest girl in school has been standing alone at this vending machine for three weeks, pretending to be busy, when she could just say hello."

Maya's breath caught. Cleo wasn't talking about herself.

"Maya," Cleo continued, "you don't need any vitamin supplements to shine. You're already glowing. I've been watching you. Waiting for the right moment to..."

"To what?"

"To see if you'd notice me noticing you." Cleo grinnned, all mysteriousness gone. "So, track practice, huh? Think the coach would mind if someone brought you actual fruit instead?"

Maya took a bite of her orange. It was sweet and tart and absolutely perfect. "I think Coach would survive the shock."

"Good." Cleo's fingers lingered on Maya's wrist. "Because I have about twenty pounds of oranges at home. My mom went overboard at the farmer's market again."

"Is that a riddle?"

"No." Cleo stepped closer. "That's an invitation."