Goldfish in the Pyramid Scheme

Maya's cousin Enrique was preaching about his new 'financial opportunity' at Thanksgiving dinner again. It was definitely a pyramid scheme, but nobody in the family wanted to say it to his face.

"You guys just don't understand the VISION," Enrique said, aggressively serving himself more mashed potatoes.

Maya escaped to her room, where her betta fish, Lightning, was doing his usual dramatic laps around his bowl. She'd named him for the electric blue streak down his side, not because he was particularly fast—honestly, he mostly chilled.

Her phone buzzed. *Group chat: The Squad (minus Sarah)*

Li: "Okay but did you SEE Sarah's story? She's literally hanging with Jessica's crew now"

Jordan: "someone needs to find out what's going on"

Everyone looked at Maya.

*"Be our spy,"* Jordan dm'd her separately. *"You have English with her tomorrow. Just casually ask what she did this weekend. We won't even tell her you told us. Promise."*

Maya stared at the message. Being the friend group's designated spy wasn't in her job description, but she'd done it before. That vague what-did-you-do-this-weekend interrogation. The accidental slip of information.

She looked at Lightning again, floating near his plastic pirate ship.

What was she, some kind of pet goldfish? Swimming around in this tiny bowl of middle school friendship drama, waiting for someone to feed her?

No. Actually, she was tired of it.

She deleted Jordan's message without replying. Then she took her daily vitamin—gummy cherry, honestly the best part of her morning routine—and grabbed her sketchbook. Sarah could do whatever Sarah wanted to do. Maya had better things to worry about. Like actually talking to that cute sophomore in her art class who'd smiled at her yesterday.

Sometimes growing up meant realizing you didn't have to play the games everyone else was playing.