Bottom of the Pyramid

The social pyramid at Northwood High had CJ stuck firmly at the bottom, right alongside the kids who played Magic cards in the library and the guy whose jeans were always two inches too short. But tonight—tonight was different.

CJ stood by the edge of the in-ground pool in Maya's backyard, clutching his iPhone like a lifeline. The device buzzed constantly with notifications he was too anxious to check. Around him, the popular kids splashed and laughed, their clique forming the obvious apex of tonight's social hierarchy. Maya, the cheer captain and undisputed queen bee, sat on a pool float shaped like a flamingo, holding court like she'd been doing it her whole life.

"Hey, new guy," someone called. It was Derek, the starting pitcher on the baseball team, currently dripping wet and looking annoyingly confident. "You gonna jump in or what?"

CJ's stomach did that familiar flip. The truth was, he couldn't swim. Not really. And the idea of flailing around in front of everyone made him want to dissolve into the concrete patio.

"Maybe later," he managed, which was exactly what someone who was definitely not going to do something said.

His phone buzzed again. A text from his mom: Don't forget to eat something healthy! There's spinach dip in the fridge if you get hungry :)

CJ groaned silently. His mother's concern for his nutrition was frankly embarrassing. And then his brain supplied the worst possible image: spinach. Between his teeth. While trying to talk to Maya. The social mortification would be absolute.

But then Maya paddled over, her flamingo float bumping gently against the pool's edge.

"You're CJ, right? From English?" She smiled, and it wasn't fake or mean. It was genuine.

"Yeah, that's me."

"I like your shirt," she said. "That band? They played at this venue I love last summer."

Wait. What? Maya, queen of the pyramid, listened to indie alternative? The same obscure band CJ had loved since middle school?

"Really?" CJ found himself saying. "I didn't think—"

"What? That cheerleaders only listen to pop?" Maya rolled her eyes, but playfully. "That stereotype is so tired, CJ. People are more complicated than that."

She climbed out of the pool, water dripping from her athletic frame, and sat on the edge beside him. "So what's your story? Besides knowing good music."

And just like that, the pyramid didn't matter anymore. The pool didn't feel like a threat. The baseball team's noise faded to background.

"Well," CJ said, his phone screen going dark as he finally set it down. "I have this embarrassing story about spinach dip and my mom..."

Mayla laughed, and it was real.

"Tell me everything."