The Pyramid Scheme

Maya stared at the cafeteria's social pyramid from her usual corner table. At the top sat the popular kids — the ones with perfect hair and effortless confidence. Maya existed somewhere near the bottom, wearing her dad's oversized beanie hat like a security blanket that could make her invisible.

"You look like a zombie again," said Jace, sliding into the seat across from her. He'd been her best friend since sixth grade, back when friendship meant sharing Pokemon cards instead of trauma dumping about AP classes. "Did you sleep at all?"

Maya shrugged, picking at the orange peeling off her cafeteria taco. "Three hours. Physics test tomorrow. College applications. The usual."

Jace made a face. "Remember Halloween freshman year? We watched zombie movies until 3 AM and you swore you'd never stress about grades again."

"That was before I realized my entire future depends on a number between 1 and 5." Maya adjusted her hat, pulling it lower over her eyes. "Sometimes I feel like everyone's just playing a role, you know? Like we're all zombies following some script nobody wrote."

"Then rewrite it." Jace grabbed his backpack. "Homecoming game's tonight. We're going. You're removing the hat, we're sitting in the student section, and you're actually going to exist in public for once."

"Jace, come on —"

"No arguments. That's what friends are for. Also, I bet five bucks you'll get asked to dance."

Maya rolled her eyes but followed him outside, where the sunset painted the sky in brilliant orange streaks. For the first time in months, she didn't feel like climbing some impossible pyramid. She just felt like herself — hat optional.