Freshman Geometry

Maya's palms were sweating. Like, actually dripping as she clutched her schedule and stood before the towering social pyramid that was Carter High's cafeteria. Seniors at the top, sophomores in the middle, freshmen like her scattered somewhere near the floor.

"You look lost," said a voice behind her. She turned to find Leo—track team jacket, effortlessly cool, last year's crush material leaning against a palm tree near the courtyard.

"Just figuring out where I belong," she admitted, then immediately regretted being so real with someone she'd literally never spoken to.

Leo smiled. "Join the club. Everyone's running from something or toward something. Mostly just running in circles though."

His golden retriever, Buster, chose that moment to escape his leash and bolt toward Maya, knocking her books everywhere. Great. First day priorities: maintain dignity. Failed.

As she knelt to gather her stuff, Leo helped, their hands brushing. "Sorry about Buster. He's a chaos demon in fur form."

"It's fine," she said, though her Geometry homework was now thoroughly slobbered.

"Hey," Leo said, "wanna sit with us? Not to sound weird, but you seem actually interesting. Unlike half the people here who are basically just walking Instagram captions."

She followed him to a table where his friends were debating something intense. "The real question," a girl named Jordan was saying, "is whether the cafeteria's mystery meat qualifies as food or just a sphinx riddle without an answer."

Maya laughed. Surprisingly loud. The group looked at her, then Leo grinned.

"See? Interesting."

By lunch's end, Maya realized something: the social pyramid was less like a monument and more like a really complicated group chat. You just had to find the right thread. Her palms were dry, Buster was asleep on her foot, and for the first time, high school didn't feel like running a marathon she hadn't trained for.

Maybe she'd survive this after all.