Scaling the Pyramid

The thing about being a freshman? You're basically a goldfish in a tank full of sharks—tiny, forgettable, and constantly wondering why everyone's staring at you. Maya stood in front of Oak Creek High's dreaded social pyramid, clipboard in hand, watching the seniors glide past like they owned the place.

"Hey, Goldfish Girl." Derek, a junior whose padel racket was practically attached to his hand, smirked at her. "Coach says you're doing the tournament brackets."

Maya fought the urge to roll her eyes. "It's MAYA. And yeah, I'm managing the padel tournament. Because apparently, that's what freshmen do."

"Whatever." He leaned against the gym wall, his varsity jacket practically screaming *I'm better than you.* "Just don't mess it up, alright? Some of us actually care about this stuff."

The worst part? Maya actually *was* going to mess it up. She'd never even seen a padel match before, and now she was somehow in charge of the whole tournament bracket. But she wasn't about to let Derek know that.

"Got it covered," she lied smoothly.

Her phone buzzed. *Mom: Don't forget about dinner tonight! Uncle Ted's bringing that bear rug he got in Montana!*

Maya groaned. Uncle Ted and his weird hunting trophies were the last thing she needed right now. She had three minutes to get to the cafeteria, grab something edible, and figure out why her bracket spreadsheet looked like it had been attacked by a raccoon.

She grabbed a salad—spinach, mostly, because at least it wouldn't judge her—and sat across from her best friend, Leo, who was furiously typing on his laptop.

"You good?" he asked, not looking up.

"Derek called me Goldfish Girl. Again. Also, I have zero clue what I'm doing with this tournament. And my uncle is bringing a dead bear to dinner."

Leo finally looked up, grinning. "Classic Maya problems. Want help with the bracket? I played padel at camp last summer."

Maya nearly hugged him right there in the middle of the cafeteria. "YES. You're a lifesaver."

"Anything for my favorite goldfish," he said, and for once, she didn't even mind.

By the time the tournament rolled around two weeks later, Maya had everything organized perfectly. She'd even made little goldfish stickers for the brackets because if she was going to own the nickname, she was going to OWN it.

Derek's team made it to the finals. He actually smiled at her—like, a real one—when she handed him the championship trophy.

"Not bad, Goldfish Girl," he said. "Not bad at all."

Maya just grinned. She wasn't at the top of the pyramid yet, but she wasn't swimming in circles anymore either. And honestly? That was enough for now.