Papara Scheme

The popularity pyramid at Northwood High had Maya stuck somewhere in the middle — visible enough to be noticed, invisible enough to be forgotten. Then came the papaya incident, rewriting her entire social standing.

It started with Mr. Henderson's World History class announcing the Egypt trip. Maya's parents, being Maya's parents, had signed her up instantly. But what truly cemented her fate was Barnaby.

Barnaby was her neighbor's ancient golden retriever — a creature whose brain cell count had decreased with each passing year. Maya was dogsitting when the pyramid scheme text arrived from Chelsea, the undisputed queen of the social pyramid.

'Hey! Since we're roomies on the Egypt trip, I'm organizing papaya Enzyme cleanses for all of us. Super exclusive, only $47 for the starter pack. You in?'

Maya stared at her phone. Papaya enzyme cleanses? That sounded like something a wellness influencer invented while high.

But Barnaby chose that moment to nose-butt her in the kidney, and in her confusion, Maya accidentally typed 'sure'

'Slay! Venmo me now, spots are literally filling up!' Chelsea replied.

By the time Maya realized she'd been pyramid-scheme'd into buying $47 worth of papaya pills, it was too late. Her savings were gone. The worst part? She couldn't even be mad at Chelsea, because Chelsea had already moved on to selling crystal-infused water bottles to sophomores.

The Egypt trip rolled around. Maya found herself in a hotel room with three girls who treated her like she was invisible. She'd spent her life savings on fake supplements to impress people who didn't care.

Then came the night they went rooftop stargazing. Maya, fed up with playing background character in her own life, climbed to the highest point of the hotel — literally and metaphorically topping the pyramid for once. She sat there eating actual papaya from a street vendor because it cost fifty cents and tasted like sunshine.

Chelsea found her there. 'What are you doing?'

'Living my best life,' Maya said, mouth full of tropical fruit. 'Also, those pills you sold me? My dog ate them. He's fine, but his coat has never been shinier.'

Chelsea stared. Then she laughed. Actually laughed.

'Oh my god, I forgot I even sold those. This pyramid scheme lasted, like, two weeks.' Chelsea sat beside her. 'Want some papaya?'

Maya handed her a piece. They sat under Egyptian stars, eating fruit like normal people, like equals. The pyramid didn't matter anymore. Maya had finally climbed her way to the top — not by buying papaya pills, but by realizing she'd never needed to impress anyone but herself.

Barnaby would've been proud. That good boy had excellent instincts about who deserved treats — and who didn't.