Poolside Pyramid Schemes

The social pyramid at Northwood High wasn't built with stone—it was constructed with solo cups, cheap sunglasses, and whoever's parents were out of town. And right now, at Jessica's end-of-summer blowout, I was definitely in the basement level.

I stood by the snack table, clutching a warm Coke like it was a life preserver. The backyard transformed into something resembling a teen movie set: string lights, a DJ setup that was just someone's Bluetooth speaker, and a pool that looked like invitation-only water. Everyone who mattered splashed around, while the rest of us pretended to be fascinated by the chips.

Then Jake materialized beside me. Jake, who sat behind me in pre-calc and made my brain do actual cartwheels.

"Hey," he said. "Wanna play beer pong?"

I choked on literally nothing. "With you?"

"Unless you're scared." That stupid grin. The one that made my palms sweat so bad I could probably fill a small cup.

"I'm not scared."

The pyramid of red cups stood between us like a monument to teenage awkwardness. I lined up my shot, my entire future happiness apparently depending on this moment. The backyard went quiet. Or maybe that was just the blood rushing through my ears.

"You got this," Jake said, way too close. His arm brushed against mine.

I threw. The ball bounced off the rim and splashed into the water.

"Close," he said. "Your turn to drink."

"That's not how beer pong works."

"It is at my house." He winked. Then, because the universe had suddenly decided to mess with me: "So, homecoming's coming up."

"Yeah."

"You going?"

"Probably." My heart was doing that thing where it forgot how to heart correctly. "You?"

"Maybe." He stepped closer. "If I found the right person to ask."

Later, when the sun dipped below the fence line and the pyramid of cups had collapsed into victory, Jake asked if I wanted to go get actual food. As we walked toward his car, I realized something about pyramids: they look solid from far away, but up close, they're just a bunch of individual pieces, stacked together and hoping nobody knocks them over.

And somewhere between the snack table and Jake's Honda Civic, I'd climbed all the way to the top.