The Pyramid Scheme

Maya's hair had officially declared war. Three hours before homecoming, and she was rocking what could best be described as a electrocuted poodle aesthetic.

"Your hair looks fine," Chloe said, barely looking up from her phone. "You're being dramatic."

"Chloe, I have a literal cowlick sticking straight up. It's like a pyramid on my head. A very sad, lopsided pyramid."

Her sister's dog, Buster—a chaotic golden retriever mix who'd already eaten two scrunchies this week—chose that moment to barf on the carpet.

"BUSTER!"

Maya's mom rushed in with paper towels. "Maya, put on your hat. We'll figure it out at the salon."

The hat. Maya's vintage dad cap from the thrift store. The one that said "WORLD'S OKAYEST GOLFER." It was her security blanket, her social camouflage. But she wanted to look cute for Jordan, who'd finally noticed her existence in AP Bio.

The salon was a nightmare. The stylist, a guy with purple streaks and an attitude, took one look and said, "Honey, this is giving peak 'I just rolled out of bed' energy."

"That's literally what happened."

Twenty minutes and some product magic later, Maya's hair was... decent. Manageable. Not pyramid-like anymore. But now she was running late.

She burst into the gym—hat still in hand, just in case—and spotted Jordan immediately by the punch bowl. He was wearing a suit that definitely wasn't from the men's department at Kohl's. He looked stupidly good.

"Hey!" Jordan waved her over. "I was hoping you'd come."

"Yeah, sorry, hair emergency." Maya gestured at her head. "Obviously."

"It looks great." Jordan smiled, and Maya felt her face do that thing where it forgot how to human. "So, I was thinking—"

"JORDAN!" Some girl in a sparkly dress appeared out of nowhere and grabbed his arm. "Come take a selfie with us!"

He shot Maya an apologetic look and got dragged away toward the photo booth, which was decorated with—why was there an Egyptian theme tonight?—a giant cardboard sphinx.

Maya stood there alone, punch in hand, watching Jordan pose with the sphinx like it was completely normal. Typical. She pulled on her golf hat. Whatever.

"Nice hat," said someone behind her.

Maya turned. It was Riley from her English class, the quiet kid who sat in the back and always had at least three library books.

"Thanks," Maya said. "It's covering a crime scene."

Riley laughed. "My hair's also a disaster today. I put zero effort in. This whole thing is... a lot."

"Right?" Maya felt weirdly relieved. "Who decided sphinxes were homecoming appropriate?"

"Honestly, the more I think about it, the more I'm confused." Riley gestured toward the snack table. "Want to go judge the refreshment choices?"

"Hard yes."

As they walked away from the sphinx and the crowd and Jordan taking selfies with sparkle dress girl, Maya realized something: she didn't actually care about the hair anymore. And maybe she didn't need to impress people who didn't get her weird golf hat energy.

Besides, Riley had excellent taste in snacks and also liked dad jokes, which Maya discovered twenty minutes later when they were both sitting on the bleachers, ignoring the dance entirely.

"Why did the scarecrow win an award?" Riley asked.

"No. Don't say it."

"Because he was outstanding in his field!"

Maya groaned. "That was terrible. I hate that I laughed."

"You totally laughed."

Okay, maybe homecoming wasn't a complete disaster after all.