Poolside Pyramids

Maya stood at the edge of the pool, clutching her solo cup like it was a lifeline. The annual Anderson pool party. The social pyramid was on full display tonight: the popular crew splashing in the deep end, the wannabes hovering near the shallow end like satellites caught in gravity's pull, and everyone else scattered around the perimeter trying to look like they belonged.

"You gonna get in or what?" shouted Tyler from his throne on the floating flamingo. Tyler, who'd spent the entire school year building his reputation like he was constructing some monument to himself.

Maya's phone buzzed. An Instagram story from Jade, the queen bee herself: "pool parties are better with friends 💕" posted from Cabo. She wasn't even here. The pyramid was maintained by remote control now.

"I'm good," Maya called back, but her voice cracked. Someone snickered.

Then she saw it. A single goldfish swimming solo near the pool's edge, its orange scales catching the underwater lights. Looking forlorn. Possibly abandoned.

Without thinking, Maya jumped in – fully dressed, phone and all. The shock of cold water was like hitting reset on her entire nervous system.

"What are you doing?" Tyler yelled, actually falling off his flamingo.

"Saving him," Maya said, cupping the goldfish in her hands and holding it aloft like Simba. Water dripped everywhere. Her phone was definitely dead. Her reputation probably too.

But then Lisa from the debate team started laughing. "That's literally the most random thing I've ever seen."

"Random" became "legendary" within minutes. By midnight, Maya was holding court in the deep end, surrounded by people asking if the goldfish had a name yet. She told them his name was Gil, and he was tired of swimming in circles following everyone else's lead.

The pyramid hadn't changed, but Maya had stopped trying to climb it. She'd just created her own pool.