The Pyramid Incident

Maya's hand was practically melting inside Jordan's—her **palm** sweating like she'd just run a mile, which honestly, she kind of felt like she had. Social interaction with her crush should be an Olympic sport at this point.

"So, about the carnival tomorrow," Jordan started, totally casual. Maya's stomach did that thing where it forgot how to organ function.

"Yeah?" she squeaked. Smooth. Totally not awkward.

"I was gonna hit up the food **pyramid** they build every year—you know, with the burger stacks?" Jordan's laugh did things to her heart rate that were probably medically concerning. "Wanna come? My friends are gonna be there, but like, in a group way. Not a weird way."

Maya died. Actual death. But she also somehow said, "That would be sick, actually."

Next day, her existential crisis manifested as an outfit change marathon. She finally settled on this vintage orange beanie her aunt gave her—this bright, ridiculous **hat** that made zero sense with her outfit but somehow gave her main character energy.

At the carnival, everything was going mid-key perfect until she spotted Jordan across the crowd. Her brain short-circuited. She grabbed the nearest **orange** soda from some random person's hand—what was she doing—and turned around too fast.

The soda exploded. Everywhere. On her white shirt. On Jordan's shoes. On humanity's collective dignity.

"I am so sorry," she whispered, entering her **zombie** era right there. This was it. This was how she transferred schools.

But Jordan just laughed, this actual sound that made people turn around. "Dude, that was legendary."

They spent the rest of the carnival dodging teachers who definitely saw the soda incident and sharing fries like nothing embarrassing had happened. Sometimes the most chaotic moments become the best ones. Maya's palm didn't even sweat that much when Jordan held her hand later.

High school was weird like that.