Serving Up the Pyramid

The social pyramid at Westwood High had严格的 levels, and Marcus was definitely in the basement—right between the kids who smelled like locker room and the ones who communicated solely through anime references.

"Dude, you coming to padel today?" Tyler asked, slinging his backpack over one shoulder. "Coach says if we don't recruit more people, they're cutting the club."

Marcus sighed. "I have to help my mom with—"

"With what? Her homemade spinach obsession?" Tyler rolled his eyes. "Come on. It's basically tennis but cooler."

Marcus's mom had indeed gone through a 'wellness phase' that month, which meant their refrigerator looked like a vegetable graveyard and the pantry was stocked with supplements that smelled like regret. Marcus had accidentally grabbed his dad's vitamin C stash instead of his gummy vitamins that morning, and now his stomach was staging a rebellion.

"Fine," Marcus said, already regretting it. "But I'm borrowing your extra racquet."

The padel courts were behind the school, near the orange practice cones that the soccer team never bothered to put away. That's where he saw her—Chloe, who sat two rows ahead in pre-calc, wearing those expensive athletic headbands that somehow managed to look effortless instead of ridiculous.

"You play?" she asked, bouncing a ball against her racquet.

"Uh, not really," Marcus said. "I'm more of a... spectator sport person."

Chloe laughed, and it sounded nothing like the forced giggles the popular girls used to get attention from guys like Jason, who was currently shirtless near the fence showing off his abs like they were a rare collectible.

"Here," she said, tossing him the ball. "I'll teach you. Fair warning: I take no prisoners."

An hour later, Marcus was sweaty, his hair was a disaster, and he'd somehow managed to hit himself in the forehead with his own racquet twice. But Chloe was still laughing—not at him, with him—and Jason's pyramid of admirers had moved closer to watch.

"You're actually not terrible," Chloe said as they sat on the bench, sharing hisemergency orange slice. "Most people quit after the first forehead injury."

"I'm just多维talented," Marcus said, and she laughed again.

"Hey," she said, "some of us are hitting this bubble tea place Friday if you want to come. Consider it... continuation therapy."

Marcus's stomach did something that had nothing to do with the vitamin incident. "Yeah," he said, grinning. "I think I need that."

The social pyramid hadn't exactly crumbled, but Marcus had found his own ladder. And somehow, it looked a lot like a padel court.