Poolside Pyramids

Maya stood frozen at the edge of the **pool**, clutching her phone like a lifeline. Her first real high school party. Everyone seemed to know exactly what to do—except her.

"Hey!" A guy with gel-stiff hair appeared. "You're in my AP Bio class, right? I'm Tyler."

"Yeah, Maya." She swallowed hard.

"Check this out." Tyler led her to the kitchen counter, where a red **cable** snaked across empty pizza boxes. Guys were stacking solo cups into a wobbling **pyramid**, each tier more precarious than the last. When it collapsed, everyone groaned like someone'd died.

"Total **bull**," someone muttered. "Tyler said he could totally make it work."

Maya almost laughed. These were the cool kids? They seemed like kindergarteners with better hair products.

She wandered outside, where quieter people sat in lawn chairs watching someone's Instagram story loop. A calico **cat** materialized from the bushes, tail high, like it owned the place. The cat wound through legs, got petted, kept moving. Unbothered. Untouchable. Maya wanted that.

"Awkward?" A girl appeared beside her—Chloe, the swim team captain everyone whispered about.

"That obvious?" Maya winced.

"Nah." Chloe cracked open a sparkling water. "Everyone's pretending. You know what Tyler said when he invited me? 'Finally someone who can actually hold a conversation.' Then he spent the whole night proving he doesn't know how."

Maya snorted. "I saw his cup pyramid. Very impressive."

"Right?" Chloe's grin was conspiratorial. "Hey, want to get out of here? There's a rooftop nearby where you can actually hear yourself think."

Something shifted in Maya's chest. The cat rubbed against her ankles, bold as anything.

"Yes," she said, surprising herself. "Yes, absolutely."