What the Sphinx Knew

The riddle sat on my desk: What walks on four legs in the morning, two at noon, and three in the evening? I'd already missed the bus, so I figured I had time to Google it before Coach killed me at practice.

"Spinach again?" Maya wrinkled her nose at my lunch. "You know that stuff smells like actual death when it heats up."

"It's protein," I said, though I knew she was right. The cafeteria microwaved everything into submission.

"Whatever you say, Future Olympian." She tapped my mythology homework. "The sphinx, though? Really?"

"It's not my fault Mrs. H makes us read Oedipus. Also, could you NOT loudly announce my life choices to the entire junior class?"

Maya leaned in. "News flash: everyone already knows you've been running every morning since seventh grade. It's kind of your brand."

My brand. That was new. Last week I was just the girl who worked at the computer repair shop, untangling cable spaghetti for minimum wage. Now I was the cross country captain, somehow expected to lead by example or whatever.

Fox Adler stretched beside the school entrance, all lanky confidence and expensive running shoes. He'd transferred in three weeks ago and already acted like he owned the trails behind the school.

"Race you today?" he called out, not even looking at me.

"Pass."

"Scared?"

"Busy." I held up my sphinx worksheet. "Ancient Greek tragedy calls."

"Your loss." Fox took off, his stride annoyingly perfect.

Maya watched him go. "You know he's flirting, right?"

"He's not flirting. He's competing. There's a difference."

"Girl." She gave me that look. "The look that says I have zero game and might actually be hopeless."

The truth was, I didn't have time for games. Sectionals were two weeks away, and I still needed to drop thirty seconds to qualify. That meant running at dawn, eating weird green things, and spending my free time fixing other people's cable connections.

But later, when I finally laced up for my evening run, Fox was already at the trailhead. Waiting.

"Changed my mind," he said, falling into step beside me. "About the race."

"Oh?"

"Yeah. Thinking maybe we could just run together instead. See what happens."

The sphinx's answer echoed in my head: *a person.* Because we change, right? We start small and crawling, and we end up leaning on something else.

I slowed down. "Yeah," I said. "Let's see what happens."

Fox grinned, and for the first time since the season started, I wasn't thinking about split times or Sectionals or what anyone else thought my brand should be. I was just running, somewhere in the middle of it all, and for now, that was enough.