The Pyramid Scheme

The cafeteria at Northwood High operated like a pyramid scheme, and I was definitely at the bottom. The popular kids claimed the tables by the windows, while the rest of us settled for the back corner. It was brutal social geometry.

"You're literally staring again," Maya whispered, nudging me with her elbow. "You're gonna look like a total creep."

I wasn't staring at the popular kids. I was staring at the weird cat that kept appearing outside the school. The black cat with one white paw, like it was wearing a sock. I'd seen it three days in a row now, always at the same time, always watching me through the cafeteria windows like it was on a mission.

"That cat is definitely a spy," I joked, but Maya was already distracted by her phone.

By Friday, I'd decided to follow it. Because obviously I had nothing better to do than play Nancy Drew with a feline secret agent. The cat led me behind the gym, through a hole in the fence, and to this old storage shed nobody used. Lightning crackled across the sky – storm was rolling in fast.

The cat scratched at the shed door. Meowed. Like, demanding entry.

"You're kidding, right?" I said. "What is this, a Disney movie?"

But then the door opened.

Not by magic. By Marcus. THE Marcus. Junior class president, track star, sitting at the top of the pyramid with all the other popular kids.

"You're late," he said, like we'd planned this.

"Uh, what?"

"Pyramid," he said, gesturing to a literal pyramid of cafeteria trays behind him. "I've been collecting them for weeks. The lunch ladies think someone's stealing them. Technically not wrong."

The cat rubbed against my legs, purring like a tractor engine.

"This is your cat?"

"His name's Agent. He started showing up at lunch and leading people here. You're, like, the fifth one this week." Marcus grinned, and for once he didn't look like an untouchable god of Northwood High. He looked like a weirdo who built tray pyramids in abandoned sheds. "We're starting a secret society. Well, secret from the administration. Not really a society. More of a... club? For people who are tired of the whole pyramid thing."

"The social pyramid?"

"Yeah. That's exhausting, right?" He gestured to the tray pyramid. "This one's better. Nobody's at the bottom."

Another lightning strike illuminated everything – the ridiculous tower of plastic trays, the cat curling up on a crate, Marcus looking genuinely nervous about whether I'd judge him.

"That's honestly the dumbest thing I've ever heard," I said, stepping inside as rain started pouring down. "I'm in."