The Poolside Pyramid

Maya stood at the edge of the **pool**, clutching her towel like a shield. The water reflected the perfect Instagram lives of everyone else—Jake doing cannonballs, Sierra lounging on a float with her carefully curated **hair** slicked back expensive. Meanwhile, Maya's hair had decided today of all days to embrace its natural frizz, expanding like it had its own gravitational pull.

"You coming in or what?" Jake called, grinning that way that made her stomach do weird things.

"Just acclimating," Maya lied, even though she'd been standing there for ten minutes.

The social **pyramid** at Lincoln High was vicious enough on land. At Tyler's end-of-summer party, it was treacherous. The popular crew had staked out the prime real estate—the shallow end with the Bluetooth speaker. Maya and her friends were relegated to the deep end with the questionable pool noodles and Tyler's weird little brother who kept splashing everyone.

Her phone buzzed. Group chat from her mom: "**Cable** guy says he'll be there between 2 and 6. You need to be home."

Maya groaned. The cable guy. Of course. Her parents had refused to upgrade to streaming like normal people, so now she had to babysit some technician who'd inevitably ask if she'd tried turning it off and on again. She'd probably miss the party's peak moment—that magical hour when everyone got slightly less self-conscious and slightly more daring.

"Everything good?" Jake had swum over.

"Yeah, just... family stuff." Why did she sound so awkward? She was fifteen, not twelve.

"Hey," he said, treading water, "you know Tyler's basement? We're probably gonna migrate down there later. His parents got that old-school **cable** TV with the movie channels."

Maya blinked. "Seriously? Who even has cable anymore?"

"Exactly. It's got that whole 'so retro it's cool' vibe." He splashed water at her. "Stay. The cable guy can wait."

She looked at the water, at Jake's hopeful face, at Sierra across the pool who was definitely watching them. The social pyramid felt suddenly less like a prison and more like... something climbable. Or maybe she was just overthinking everything like always.

Maya dropped her towel on the lounge chair and jumped in. The shock of cold water was perfect, instant, real. Her hair floated around her face like a mermaid who'd stopped caring what anyone thought.

"Race you to the other side," she said.

Jake's grin widened. "You're on."

The cable guy could wait. Some things were more important than perfect television reception.