Spinach and the Pyramid Scheme

Maya looked like a zombie. Three hours of sleep, two AP classes, and one disastrous morning will do that to you. Her hair fought a losing battle against gravity, and her eyes had that special glazed-over look that said, 'I'm functioning on iced coffee and spite.'

"You look dead," Leo observed, unhelpfully, as they collapsed onto the grass outside the cafeteria. He was working through what looked suspiciously like a salad — actual spinach leaves and everything. Since when did Leo eat leaves voluntarily?

"Thanks," Maya deadpanned. "Some of us were up late finishing that history project that's worth 40% of our grade."

Leo smirked, shoving more spinach into his mouth. "Some of us know how to manage time. Also, some of us are about to be rich."

Maya sat up. "Rich? Since when?"

"Since Marcus invited me into this thing —" Leo lowered his voice " — it's like, this business opportunity. You get people to join, and they get people to join, and basically everyone makes money. It's this whole pyramid structure—"

"Leo," Maya interrupted. "That's a pyramid scheme."

"No, it's not," he insisted, offended. "Marcus made three hundred dollars last week. He's gonna buy a car. A used one, but still."

Maya stared at him. Leo. Her friend since seventh grade. The guy who once asked if plants had feelings. Was being recruited into a multi-level marketing scheme.

"You're not seriously considering this?" she asked, disbelief warring with affection.

"I already paid the startup fee," Leo said, suddenly quiet. "Fifty bucks. I really want that car, Maya. I'm tired of asking my mom for rides everywhere."

Something in his voice cracked through Maya's exhaustion. The social pyramid at their school was brutal enough — athletes on top, everyone else scrambling somewhere below. She hadn't realized Leo felt it so acutely.

She looked at his spinach salad, suddenly understanding. He was trying to grow up, fast. Trying to climb out of feeling stuck.

"Okay, first of all," Maya said, "you're getting that fifty bucks back. Marcus is gonna pay you. Second, we'll figure something else out. Third, give me some of that spinach."

Leo blinked. "You hate spinach."

"I hate watching you get scammed more," she said, grabbing a handful. "This tastes like sadness and health."

Leo laughed, and Maya felt something unclench in her chest. They'd figure out the money stuff. They always did. But for now, watching her friend finally crack a smile after weeks of quiet stress, she'd eat literally anything.

Even spinach.

"So," she said, swallowing quickly. "What's Marcus's number? I'm about to ruin his whole day."

Leo grinned, and for the first time all week, he didn't look so tired. "That's my zombie."