The Pyramid of Friends

Marcus slid into the booth at Blaze Pizza, his eyes doing that chaotic thing they do when he's about to drag me into something questionable. His phone was already face-up on the table, showing some pyramid scheme he'd discovered.

"Bro, listen," Marcus said, leaning in like he was about to share government secrets. "It's not a pyramid scheme. It's a multi-level marketing opportunity. My cousin Sarah made four grand last month."

I choked on my breadstick. "Your cousin who dropped out of college to sell crystal healing necklaces? That Sarah?"

Marcus's expression was lightning-quick devastation followed by determination. "She's living her best life though! Look, all you gotta do is get five people to sign up under you. Then they get five people. It's exponential growth, fam. Basic math."

The problem was, Marcus wasn't wrong about the math. He was wrong about everything else. But we'd been friends since seventh grade, when he'd taken the fall for me after I accidentally set off the fire alarm trying to vape behind the gym. That's the thing about friendships – you carry each other's embarrassing mistakes like emotional baggage.

"What am I even selling?" I asked, mostly to humor him.

Marcus's face lit up. "Energy water! It's infused with, like, quantum vibrations and ancient wisdom."

I stared at him. "Energy water."

"It's HYDRATION with PURPOSE, Maya. You're not just selling water. You're selling wellness. You're selling a LIFESTYLE."

The girl at the next booth over was definitely laughing at us. I could feel it. But Marcus didn't care – he never did about stuff like that. That was his superpower and his fatal flaw combined.

"Fine," I said. "I'll think about it. But I'm not signing up anyone. I'm not pyramid-scheming my grandma."

Marcus's grin was triumphant. "You're gonna thank me when we're both driving Teslas and living our best lives."

"Marcus, we're fifteen. We can't even drive yet."

"VISION, Maya. It's about VISION."

I didn't sign up for his pyramid scheme. But I did help him make a presentation for his "business opportunity" that was so fire, even his skeptical mom considered it for like three seconds. And when it inevitably crashed and burned two weeks later (because pyramid schemes always do), I was there with chocolate ice cream and zero I-told-you-sos.

Some friends are the ones who make you money. Others are the ones who remind you you're an idiot but love you anyway. I'll take the second kind every time. Even if they do try to sell me quantum-infused water.