Pyramid Schemes and Orange Soda

Leo wiped his sweaty palms on his cutoffs for the third time. The pyramid of red Solo cups towered above him, a testament to whatever social currency existed at Blake Hamilton's pool party. Somewhere between the bottom tier (where he definitely was) and the apex (where Blake and his varsity jacket cronies presided), Leo was supposed to find his people.

He grabbed an orange soda from the cooler, condensation slick against his fingers. "Hey, Leo!" Maya waved from near the waterfall feature, where she'd been holding court all afternoon. Maya, who sat comfortably at the pyramid's middle tier—popular enough to matter, cool enough to be approachable. Leo had been crushing on her since seventh period English, when she'd laughed at his deadpan commentary on "The Great Gatsby."

n

He waded through the shallow end, water rippling around his calves. Up close, Maya's eyes were doing that thing where they darted around like she was trapped in a conversation she couldn't escape. Some guy in a swim shirt was mansplaining competitive swimming to her.

"—so basically, my coach says I have Olympic potential if I—"

Leo accidentally-on-purpose bumped into the swimmer's shoulder, splashing water everywhere. "Oh my god, I'm so drunk," Leo announced, holding up his orange soda like it was hard liquor. "Maya, save me from myself."

Maya's eyes lit up. She grabbed his wrist. "Leo, yes, I need you to meet someone."

She dragged him toward the patio tables, past the social pyramid's base camp. "My cousin just moved here from Portland. She's into that weird indie music you're always talking about."

They ended up sitting cross-legged by the palm trees, Leo and Maya and her cousin Rory, who was exactly as advertised. They spent the next hour dissecting underground bands and mocking everyone's pool party outfits. The orange soda warmed in his hand, but for the first time all night, Leo's palms were dry.

"You know," Maya said, as Blake's pyramid collapsed dramatically at midnight, "I was literally drowning in that swimming conversation. You're my hero."

Leo shrugged, water dripping from his hair. "Just doing my civic duty."

Rory passed him her phone. "Put your number in. I'm starting a band."

Maybe social pyramids weren't so rigid after all. Sometimes you just needed the right wave to knock them over.