The Pyramid Protocol

I stood against the wall at Jake's house party, sweating through my favorite vintage tee. My palms were so slick I could barely hold my red Solo cup. This was it. My first real high school party. And I was definitely killing it, if by "killing it" you mean standing next to a potted palm tree like it was my emotional support plant.

The kitchen formed this perfect social pyramid. At the top: Jake and his varsity friends, loud and confident like they owned the place. In the middle: kids I knew from classes, laughing at inside jokes I wasn't part of. At the bottom: me, the girl who'd just spent ten minutes pretending to text her mom.

"Hey, Maya!" Jake called from his pyramid throne. "Glad you made it!"

I attempted what I hoped was a chill smile instead of whatever nervous grimace actually happened. "Yeah, thanks for inviting me!"

Then Hannah, Jake's girlfriend and queen of the pyramid, floated over. "Oh my god, Maya, you have a little..." She gestured to her own teeth.

Spinach. From the spinach artichoke dip I'd nervously inhaled earlier. Of course.

I excused myself to the bathroom, where I stared at my reflection and questioned every life choice that led to this moment. When I finally emerged, the party had migrated to the backyard for what everyone called "the sunset thing."

The sky was this insane orange color, like someone had set the clouds on fire. Everyone had their phones out, but I just watched it actually happen instead of through a screen.

Then lightning cracked—actual, real lightning—and someone screamed like it was a horror movie. The storm that had been building all day finally broke. People scrambled inside, but something about the chaos felt perfect. The social pyramid dissolved. We were just wet teenagers running through a downpour.

I ended up under the patio umbrella with Marcus, this quiet guy from my English class who I'd never really talked to.

"So," he said, rain dripping from his hair, "that spinach thing earlier? That happened to me at homecoming last year."

I laughed so hard my sides hurt.

"Seriously," he said. "I went through the entire football game looking like I'd been eating salad for breakfast."

The thunder rumbled overhead, and neither of us moved to go inside. The social pyramid could wait. For the first time all night, my palms were dry.