Orange Cable Summer

Maya's summer had been reduced to three things: the soul-sucking **orange** polo shirt she had to wear at Scoops & Stuff, her phone's perpetually frayed charging **cable**, and watching the school's social **pyramid** reconstruct itself without her in it.

"You're literally spying on them again," said Jace, sliding into the booth across from her. He nodded toward Maya's phone, where Instagram stories from Cassidy's pool party were autoplaying.

"It's not spying if it's public," Maya muttered, though it felt like it. Cassidy had somehow ascended to the tippy-top of the pyramid sophomore year, and Maya still couldn't figure out the algorithm.

Jace rolled his eyes. "You know what's weird? You're way more interesting than any of them. You taught yourself Photoshop. You bake like, actually good cookies. Meanwhile, Cassidy's entire personality is being Cassidy."

Maya laughed despite herself. "That's literally the requirements for the top of the pyramid. Zero substance, maximum confidence."

Her phone died mid-story, the screen going black at precisely the wrong moment.

"You need a new cable," Jace said. "You need to stop watching their stories. And you need——"

"What? A personality overhaul?"

"No." Jace's face went weirdly serious. "You need to come to my band's show Friday. We need someone to, like, actually record it. With a working phone."

Maya looked at him. Really looked at him. Jace, who played bass and made dumb jokes and never once made her feel like she was on the bottom of anyone's pyramid.

"Is this... are you...?"

"Asking you to come? Yeah. As a friend. As a person who I think is cool and definitely not a spy." He grinned. "Also, we're playing after Scoops closes, so you won't even have to change out of the orange shirt."

Maya looked down at her hideous uniform. Then at her dead phone. Then at Jace, who was waiting for an actual answer.

"I'm bringing extra charging cables," she said. "And I'm recording the whole thing."

"Deal." He stood up. "See you Friday, Maya."

She watched him leave, orange polo and all, and realized something: maybe the best things weren't at the top of the pyramid at all. Maybe they were right here, in the most unexpected places.