the art of not falling apart

Maya wiped her sweaty **palms** on her jeans for the third time. Across the cafeteria, Jason laughed at something—probably something brilliant, given that he sat at the top of the school's invisible social **pyramid**. Meanwhile, Maya inhabited the basement level, somewhere between the kids who played Yu-Gi-Oh! at lunch and the ones who actually *liked* gym class.

Her phone buzzed. Her mom again, reminding her to take her **vitamin** D supplements because "you're always inside, Maya, live a little." The irony wasn't lost on her.

"You're staring again," said Chloe, sliding onto the bench beside her. "It's getting creepy."

"I'm not staring. I'm... observing. For science."

"Same diff." Chloe popped a grape into her mouth. "Anyway, you know what he's really like? His ex told me he never texts back and still sleeps with a stuffed **cat** he's had since he was four."

Maya snorted. "You're making that up."

"Swear on my GPA. His name is Mr. Whiskers and apparently he's crucial for emotional support."

That's when Jason looked over and caught her eye. Maya's stomach did that embarrassing flippy thing it always did in his presence. Then—because the universe had a personal vendetta against her dignity—he stood up and started walking toward their table.

"Panic," Maya hissed. "I need a panic exit strategy."

"Too late, he's literally two feet away."

"Hey." Jason stood there, hands in his pockets, looking somehow more nervous than she felt. "I, uh, noticed you in art yesterday. That portrait you're working on? It's actually sick."

Maya's brain short-circuited. "Wait, you saw that? I thought you were too busy being—"

"Being what?" He raised an eyebrow. "A stuck-up loser who overcompensates because his parents are getting divorced and he has no idea who he is anymore?"

The table went silent. Chloe's grape froze halfway to her mouth.

"Oh," Maya said softly.

"Yeah." Jason let out this breathy laugh. "Anyway. Just wanted to say your art is good. Don't let this place make you think small." He nodded at Chloe, then turned and walked away.

Maya looked down at her hands. The sweating had stopped.

"Well," Chloe said, "plot twist."

"Yeah."

"So... are you gonna talk to him?"

Maya thought about the pyramid, about all the invisible lines she'd drawn around herself, about how everyone she'd put on a pedestal was probably just figuring it out too. She thought about Jason sleeping with a stuffed cat named Mr. Whiskers, and something in her chest loosened.

"Yeah," she said. "I think I am."