The Friendship Scheme

Marcus wouldn't shut up about the pyramid scheme. Literally. He kept showing me those cringe TikToks where people talk about 'financial freedom at seventeen' and 'building your downline while your friends work at Taco Bell.'

Dude, you're literally just trying to sell protein shakes to our history class, I said, scrolling through my phone while we sat on his basement couch.

It's not just shakes, Jordan. It's a LIFESTYLE. He gestured wildly at his laptop screen displaying one of those pyramid-shaped organizational charts. This is about climbing the SOCIAL pyramid. You know, like actually being somebody at Northwood instead of just existing.

I snorted. Marcus, we're juniors. CHILL. You're literally going to be that kid who tries to recruit people at parties. It's giving middle school energy.

That's when Maya texted me. You coming to padel later? The whole crew's there.

Padel. Of course. The sport that everyone pretended was totally their thing sophomore year when those exchange students from Spain showed up. Now it was basically the unofficial requirement for being part of the popular crowd's weekend rotation. I'd been pretending to understand the rules for months.

Yeah, I told Marcus, skipping out on his get-rich-quick presentation. I've got plans.

But the thing was, Maya's text included the whole group chat except—wait, was Marcus's name grayed out? Had he been removed?

Later at the padel courts, watching the sun dip behind the trees while everyone laughed about something that happened at lunch, I realized what was happening. The pyramid Marcus was obsessed with wasn't about protein shakes. It was the same invisible pyramid that had always existed at our school. He'd noticed he was slipping down a level, and he was desperate to climb back up. Even if that meant falling for some scam that promised to make him important.

I sat on the bench, watching Maya serve, and thought about how weird high school was. We literally built these elaborate social structures in our heads like pyramids, and then spent four years worrying about which level we occupied.

Hey Jordan, someone called. You want in?

I looked up. For a second, I almost said no. I almost went back to Marcus's basement and told him I'd rather sell protein shakes with him than play this game.

But then I grabbed my racquet and walked onto the court.

Yeah, I said. I'm in.

Some other time, Marcus. Some other time.