The Lightning Pyramid

Kai's hair was definitely a mistake. The electric blue box promised "vibrant results that SLAP," but instead it looked like he'd dunked his head in toilet water at a rave. And now he had to present his history project in thirty minutes.

"Dude," said Jordan, barely looking up from their phone. "It's not that deep."

"Not that deep?!" Kai gestured at his head. "I look like a smurf died on top of me!"

Jordan sighed, finally making eye contact. "Okay, first off, SLAY for the confidence. Second, we gotta finish this pyramid model before Mr. Harrison fails us both."

Their cardboard pyramid leaned precariously against Kai's desk, surrounded by half-eaten Takis and empty energy drink cans. The social studies project worth 40% of their grade.

"Why'd I let you talk me into being partners?" Kai grumbled, but he was already reaching for the hot glue gun.

"Because I'm your best friend and I saved your ass when you forgot your gym clothes last week?" Jordan smirked. "Besides, I have vision."

"Your vision got us detention for a week."

"Technically, that was the vending machine incident."

Thunder rattled the window. The sky outside had turned that sickly yellow-green color that meant either tornado weather or just regular Ohio bullshit. Kai glued the final piece onto their pyramid while Jordan filmed it for TikTok, mumbling something about "content."

"You're literally obsessed with being chronically online," Kai said.

"It's called building a personal brand, Kyle."

"My name is KAI."

"Whatever. You know what? Let's go look at those cows."

"Why do we always have to look at the cows when you come over?"

"Because cows areVALID and they don't judge my hair choices," Kai shot back.

The bull—a massive Holstein named Bessie that Kai's dad kept swearing was going to be hamburger meat any day now—stared at them with what Jordan insisted was profound spiritual energy. Kai thought it looked like it wanted them to get off its lawn.

"I dare you to touch it," Jordan said.

"I'm not touching Bessie. She literally tried to headbutt me last week."

"That was because you were wearing that stupid fedora."

"It was VINTAGE."

Lightning cracked across the sky—closer this time. The hair on Kai's arms stood up. Jordan's eyes went wide.

"Okay but imagine if we got struck by lightning right now," Jordan said. "That would be SO metal."

"We would literally die."

"But think of the STORY. 'Kai and Jordan: The Legends Who Went Out Touching a Cow in a Storm.'"

Kai laughed despite himself. Jordan had this way of making everything feel like an adventure, even when they were just two kids standing in a muddy field talking to a disinterested bovine while Kai looked like a rejected Blue Man Group audition.

"You know what?" Jordan said, suddenly serious. "Your hair kind of slaps in this light."

"Don't gaslight me."

"No, for real. It's giving misunderstood artist. It's giving main character energy."

"It's giving 'my friend is legally insane.'"

Jordan grinned—the real one, not the TikTok face. "Yeah, well. At least we're insane together."

The first fat raindrop hit Kai's nose. Then another. Then the sky just opened up like someone had turned on a fire hose. They didn't run. Just stood there getting absolutely drenched while Bessie the bull chewed her cud with what Kai decided was definitely judgment.

"Our pyramid is definitely ruined," Kai said, rain plastering his blue hair to his forehead.

"Eh," Jordan said. "We'll tell Mr. Harrison it was an artistic choice. Rain represents the tears of the pharaohs or some deep shit like that."

Kai started laughing so hard his stomach hurt. Jordan joined in, and suddenly they were both howling like idiots in the middle of a rainstorm in Ohio, blue hair and bad decisions and a C-minus history project waiting inside.

Somehow, it felt like enough.