Crown of Crumpled Paper

The pyramid sat on the kitchen counter — seven Solo cups stacked into a wobbling tower, the centerpiece of Tyler's basement party. I stood there clutching my red cup like it contained something important, though I'd dumped the contents in a potted plant five minutes ago. liquid courage, they called it. More like liquid embarrassment waiting to happen.

That's when I saw him — the guy from my AP History class, wearing this ridiculous fedora hat like he was auditioning for a mob movie. He was feeding goldfish crackers to a golden retriever that sat at his feet with the intensity of a bomb-sniffing dog.

'That's Barnaby,' he said, catching me staring. 'He has very refined taste. Only the cheddar kind.'

I laughed, and it actually sounded real. 'I'm Maya.'

'Ethan. And this beauty' — he gestured to the pyramid of cups — 'is apparently how we prove we're fun now. I've been trying to figure out which social rung I'm supposed to be climbing.'

'The one where you talk to guys in fedoras who feed crackers to dogs?' I suggested.

'Exactly. The VIP section.' Ethan pulled a goldfish from his pocket — a live one, in a tiny baggie of water. 'My sister dared me to bring it. Said if I didn't, I'm basically a coward.'

'You're carrying a fish around a basement party. That's not coward territory.'

'We're both here, aren't we?' His voice dropped. 'Neither of us is exactly killing it at the whole social pyramid thing.'

He was right. The pyramid — whether cups or high school hierarchy — had always looked like something I was supposed to conquer alone. But standing there with Ethan and his fedora and his very confused fish, the loneliness I'd carried all freshman year suddenly felt lighter. Like maybe I didn't have to climb alone.

'Barnaby looks like he wants a friend,' I said, kneeling to scratch the dog's ears.

'He wants a snack. But he'll take the ear scratches.' Ethan set the fish bag on the counter. 'You want to get out of here? I think there's a 24-hour diner down the road. Barnaby can come.'

'What about your sister's dare?'

'The fish or the coward thing?' Ethan grinned, tilting his hat. 'Both, probably. But I think I'd rather make a new friend than prove a point.'

Outside, the air was cool and real. As we walked, I thought about pyramids — how they looked like mountains from a distance, but were really just tombs filled with things people thought they'd need in the next life. I didn't need to be buried under expectations anymore.

'Hey Ethan?'

'Yeah?'

'I hate fedoras.'

He laughed, taking it off. 'Yeah, me too. I think I was trying too hard.'

'The fish, though,' I said, 'the fish stays. That's genuine weirdness. Can't fake that.'

'Barnaby approves.' The dog barked once, like punctuation.

Some pyramids are meant to be climbed, I realized. Some are meant to be knocked down, cup by plastic cup, until you can finally see the person standing on the other side.