Under the Hat

Maya's beanie was basically welded to her head freshman year. It was this slate-blue knit hat that covered her forehead, which she'd nicked during a bang-trimming disaster that left her looking like a lopsided Beatles tribute.

Now she was a sophomore, still hiding under the hat's brim like it was a witness protection program.

"You're being such a bull about this," Chloe said, kicking Maya's ankle in third period. "Just take it off. It's literally eighty degrees."

Maya didn't mention that taking it off felt like peeling off her skin. Instead, she mumbled something about SPF and stared at the back of Ryan's head in front of her. Ryan, who'd sit with anyone at lunch. Ryan, whose hair defied gravity and who probably never questioned his entire existence.

That's when she saw it: the slip of paper tucked into Ryan's hoodie pocket. Sphinx riddles. Three of them, written in this weird cramped handwriting like someone was trying to disappear into the page.

Maya's brain went 0 to 100. Who carried sphinx riddles around like they were normal? Was he part of some secret puzzle society? Was he—

"You're literally spy-ing on him right now," Chloe whispered, nudging her. "It's giving obsessed."

But Maya's curiosity was already spiraling. That afternoon, she "accidentally" walked past Ryan's locker twice. She spotted a matching sphinx sticker on the inside door—a cat with enormous ears, staring like it knew things.

Turns out, Ryan's older sister had this hairless sphinx cat that looked like a tiny naked alien and had health issues. Ryan carried riddles because his sister used to quiz him to distract her during treatments. They'd lost her in March.

The hat stayed on for three more weeks. Then one day at lunch, Ryan sat across from her and said, "You know, I used to wear my sister's beanies constantly. Said they made me feel safe."

Maya's fingers hovered at the brim.

"Your hair's probably fine," he said. "Mine looked like I stuck a fork in an electrical socket when I finally took mine off."

The hat came off. Her bangs had grown out. Ryan was right—the hair was fine. But the relief was better.

Some secrets are like sphinx riddles: the answer's simple once you stop overthinking it. Sometimes you just have to take off the hat.