The Palm Reader's Prophecy

Maya's palms were sweating as she stared at the poster. FRIENDS WANTED — JOIN THE ELITE SQUAD. It was basically a pyramid scheme, selling those overpriced skin serums that every junior seemed obsessed with, but Maya was desperate. Ever since Chloe — her former bestie turned Instagram queen — had ascended to the top of the social pyramid, Maya had been floating in the awkward middle zone, neither cool enough to sit at the designated table nor invisible enough to escape the daily cringe of lunch alone.

"You in or what?" Ryan asked, appearing beside her locker. He was cute in that skateboarder-meets-AP-Calculus way, and currently holding a shiny bottle of something called "Glow Matrix."

"I don't know," Maya said. "Is this actually legit, or are we just gonna end up awkwardly hassling people like those MLM aunties on Facebook?"

Ryan laughed. "Bro, it's totally not like that. We're building a team. Community over competition, you know?"

Maya's mom had taken her to a palm reader once, back in sixth grade when they'd briefly gone through that spiritual phase. The old woman had traced the lines on Maya's hand and said something cryptic about friendship being her greatest strength. Maya had rolled her eyes so hard she'd given herself a headache. But now, standing in the hallway with Ryan's hopeful expression and the serum bottle gleaming under the fluorescent lights, she thought maybe the old lady was onto something.

The next few weeks were a blur. Maya actually sold twenty bottles — mostly to her mom's coworkers and some desperate seniors before prom. She and Ryan spent hours at coffee shops, strategizing and laughing until the baristas started giving them side-eye. Something shifted between them, this easy comfortable thing that Maya hadn't felt since before everything with Chloe.

Then came the regional meeting.

"The TOP of the pyramid gets a BONUS," the presenter shouted, and suddenly Maya understood exactly what this was. The people at the top weren't there because they worked harder. They were there because they got there first.

Maya looked at Ryan, who was grinning like this was the best thing ever.

"This isn't community," she said, during the break. "This is literally just us making money for the people at the top."

Ryan's face fell. "But we're making friends?"

"Ryan," Maya said, and took his hand, palm to palm, like a weirdly intimate handshake. "Friends don't use each other to climb a pyramid."

They quit together. Started an actual band instead — Maya on bass, Ryan on drums, Chloe (who'd been surprisingly chill about everything) on vocals. Sometimes the best schemes are the ones you walk away from, and sometimes the real pyramid was the friends we made along the way. (Okay, Maya would never actually say that out loud. But she thought it, in the most ironic way possible.)