The Pyramid Scheme

My social life was basically a pyramid scheme, and I was the sucker at the bottom buying in. Freshman year, I thought climbing Lincoln High's social hierarchy would fix everything—make me noticeable, make me matter.

Then came the night of Tyler's house party, where the plan was simple: don't be awkward, don't spill anything, definitely don't have spinach in your teeth. I'd practiced my smile in the mirror twenty times. I was ready.

Or so I thought.

Twenty minutes in, I found myself cornered by Bull Miller—senior, linebacker, human wall—demanding to know what my "deal" was. My palms went full swimming pool. I stammered something about... swimming? Because my brain decided NOW was the time to mention my goldfish, Neptune, who'd died that morning when I forgot to feed him before school.

"Your goldfish?" Bull raised an eyebrow. "You're at your first high school party and you're thinking about a fish?"

I wanted to disappear. To my horror, someone cracked up laughing. "Dude, look—" they pointed at my reflection in the sliding glass door. "You've got spinach in your teeth. Did you try eating healthy or something?"

Spinach. The green salad I'd forced down because internet articles said it would help my skin. The spinach now decorating my front teeth like decorative moss.

I froze. This was it—the end of my social life before it began. I'd be "Spinach Girl" forever.

But then Bull actually laughed. Not mean-just-laughing, but genuinely chuckling. "Shit, at least you're not out here pretending you're hot shit like everyone else." He clapped my shoulder. "My sister had a goldfish. Thing lived forever. She named it Pizza. Don't ask me why."

Someone shoved a red cup in my hand. "Spinach and all, you're real, though. That's something."

The pyramid didn't crumble that night, but something shifted. Maybe the top wasn't where I wanted to be anyway. Maybe being real—spinach teeth, dead goldfish stories, and all—was better than being perfect.

I took a sip. Whatever happened, at least I wouldn't be swimming upstream anymore.