Poolside Pyramid Scheme

The community pool was basically a social pyramid, and I was somewhere in the murky middle—not drowning, but definitely not floating either.

"Dude, you coming?" Marcus asked, already halfway across the deck. His hair dripped chlorine onto his shoulders like he'd been baptized in cool.

I hesitated. Marcus had been my friend since third grade, back when friendship was about sharing Pokémon cards, not maintaining a carefully curated social standing. Now he was at the top of the invisible pyramid that ruled Lincoln High, and I was just the guy he kept around for old times' sake.

"Nah," I said, sinking deeper into the plastic chair. "Maybe next lap."

Truth was, I was over it. The whole performance. The cable guy had come yesterday to upgrade our internet, and I'd spent three hours watching YouTubers build their own worlds instead of trying to climb into someone else's. My little sister Lena was in the shallow end, practicing her dives while some eighth graders made fun of her form. She didn't care. She was just having fun.

Something clicked in my chest.

I stood up and walked toward the pool, but not toward Marcus and his pyramid of popular kids. I headed for the shallow end.

"Hey, Lena," I called out. "Your form's all wrong."

She looked up, eyes wide. "You're gonna help me?"

"Yeah. But first, we're doing cannonballs off the diving board. Maximum splash damage."

Her grin lit up her whole face. The eighth graders could watch and judge from their pyramid. Marcus could wonder what happened to the guy who used to trail after him.

I jumped in, chlorine rushing up my nose, and came up sputtering. Lena cannonballed right behind me, sending a wave over the deck that drenched Marcus's expensive slides.

"Oops," she said, not sorry at all.

I laughed until my stomach hurt. Sometimes you have to sink your own pyramid to learn how to swim.