The Pyramid Scheme

Maya pulled her beanie **hat** down lower, wishing she could disappear into the bleachers. Homecoming court announcements in ten minutes and she'd somehow gotten nominated. Probably as a joke. The same kind of joke that made Tyler and his friends leave that stuffed **bear** in her locker last week — dead-eyed and ridiculous, like her entire high school existence.

"You good?" Sierra slid in beside her, texting furiously. "Because apparently Jordan's looking for you. And not in a creepy way."

"Jordan thinks I'm literally insane," Maya muttered. "I hissed at his **cat** when I was tutoring him last week. Who does that?"

"A legend, that's who." Sierra grinned. "Also, the whole tutoring thing? Major glow up. He asked if you're coming to Kyle's party tonight."

Before Maya could process this — Jordan? Party? HER? — the gym lights dimmed. Principal Reynolds took the microphone, sounding uncomfortably like a substitute teacher trying to be cool. "And now, the moment you've all been waiting for! Let's hear it for your homecoming court!"

The crowd went wild. Maya's stomach did that awful knots thing it always did when attention landed anywhere near her vicinity. Then she saw it — the social **pyramid** of Westwood High, crystal clear in the sudden spotlight. Cheerleaders at the apex, athletes just below, everyone else arranged in invisible tiers she'd spent three years trying to climb.

But something weird happened when names got called. Actual cheers. For her. Not ironic cheers, either.

"MAYA SANTOS!" people screamed, and Sierra grabbed her arm like she might bolt.

She stood up, legs shaking, and somehow walked to center court without face-planting. The spotlight hit her like a physical thing. She saw Jordan in the crowd, actually smiling — not mocking, just... happy? For her?

"Your speech!" someone hissed.

Maya leaned into the mic, heart hammering against her ribs. "Honestly?" she said, voice shaking. "I thought this was a joke. But maybe the real joke was thinking I had to fit into some pyramid to matter here. So thanks, I guess, for proving me wrong."

Later, Sierra found her behind the gym, undoing the corsage that kept stabbing her wrist. Jordan was there, looking nervous.

"That was," he said, "actually sick."

"I hissed at your cat, Jordan."

"Yeah." He grinned. "Worst cat ever. You coming tonight?"

Maya thought about her sweatpants. Her Netflix queue. The safety of her room. Then she thought about the pyramid, and how she'd just stood at the top of it, terrified but somehow standing anyway.

"Yeah," she said. "Yeah, I think I am."