Pyramid Schemes and Vitamin Water

Maya's summer was supposed to be about building her brand as a micro-influencer, not explaining why pyramids aren't actually alien spacecraft to Tyler, the soccer captain she'd been lowkey crushing on since September.

"So the sphinx was, like, built when?" Tyler asked, leaning against the vitamin display at her mom's wellness shop. He'd come in for his post-workout protein shake, but Maya had somehow convinced him to let her tutor him for history since he was failing and she needed extra credit.

"Fourth dynasty, Tyler. But more importantly, the Great Pyramid aligns perfectly with true north, which is honestly iconic considering they didn't have GPS or whatever." Maya gestured dramatically with the vitamin C bottle she'd been restocking.

Tyler laughed, and Maya felt that weird flutter in her chest—the same one she got when her posts hit 500 likes. "You're actually kind of obsessed with this stuff. It's... I don't know. It's cool."

The bell above the door chimed. Jessica walked in with her squad—the literal pyramid of Greenhaven High's social hierarchy. Maya had spent three years trying to decode their group chat dynamics from afar.

"Hey Maya," Jessica called, all bright and terrifying. "Love your Egypt posts. So aesthetic."

Maya froze. She'd been posting hieroglyphics and pyramid memes for weeks, mostly because her history teacher had promised bonus points for "creative engagement with the curriculum." But Jessica noticed?

"Thanks," Maya managed, while simultaneously dropping the vitamin D supplement she was holding. It rolled under the shelf.

Tyler crouched down to grab it, and their hands brushed. For a second, everything slowed down. Then he stood up, grinning.

"You good?" he asked.

"Yeah. Just. Clumsy."

After Jessica's group left (with three overpriced smoothies), Tyler leaned back against the counter. "You know, I was gonna ask if you wanted to study more sometime? Like, actually study. But also maybe get food?"

The water cooler bubbled behind them, and Maya suddenly realized her mouth was literally watering. This was it—the moment every coming-of-age movie promised.

"I'd like that," she said, and it came out normal, not weird at all.

Later, as she closed up the shop, Maya posted another photo of the Great Pyramid. The caption read: "Sometimes the real treasure was the confidence we gained along the way." Okay, maybe she'd work on that caption. But for now, she was feeling pretty legendary.