The Pyramid Scheme

Maya's iPhone dinged during seventh period, and her heart did that stupid flutter thing it always did when *he* texted. She risked a glance under her desk—Mr. Harrison was rambling about quadratic equations, thank god—and saw the notification: "Baseball practice @ 5? You coming?"

Her palms went instantly sweaty. Chase, the starting pitcher, the guy whose Instagram she stalked at 2 AM when her insomnia was acting up, was asking *her* to watch practice.

The social hierarchy at Northwood High operated like a pyramid, and Maya was comfortably stuck in the middle—friends with everyone, close to no one. But lately? Lately she'd been thinking about climbing. Or at least, climbing toward Chase.

"You're staring at your phone again," whispered Jenna from the next desk. "What happened? Did you finally get your TikTok viral?"

"Shut up," Maya whispered back, but she was grinning. "Chase invited me to baseball practice."

Jenna's eyebrows practically hit her hairline. "Chase *Martinez*? Oh my god, Maya. This is huge. You're about to enter the pyramid's top tier, my friend. Don't mess it up."

Maya's palms were sweating so badly she had to wipe them on her jeans. The pyramid metaphor was stupid—Jenna had made it up freshman year—but it stuck because it was true. Popular kids at the top, everyone else layered below, and Maya had never cared about ascending until Chase Martinez started acknowledging her existence in chem lab.

At 4:45, Maya showed up at the baseball field, iPhone battery at 67%, heart somewhere in her throat. Chase was pitching, his jersey damp with sweat, his focus locked on the batter's box. When he saw her, he grinned and waved, and Maya felt like the main character in one of those coming-of-age movies where everything works out.

"You came!" he jogged over, cleats clicking against the dirt. "Hey, can I ask you something?"

"Yeah, absolutely."

Chase pulled out his phone. "I'm doing this pyramid scheme thing—well, not a scam, obviously, but like, a team bonding thing. For baseball. I need everyone's contacts to organize the group chat. You're cool with me adding you, right?"

Maya blinked. "Oh. Team bonding. Yeah, sure."

She typed her number into his iPhone while he chattered about coaches and tournaments and next week's game. The pyramid wasn't about popularity at all, she realized with a weird little pang in her chest. It was about misreading everything, about building expectations in your head that had nothing to do with reality.

"Thanks!" Chase beamed. "You're a lifesaver. See you at school tomorrow?"

"Yeah," said Maya, wiping her sweaty palms on her jeans again. "See you tomorrow."

Her iPhone buzzed almost immediately: *Added to group chat ⚾ BASEBALL SQUAD 2024 ⚾*

Maya stared at it for a long moment. Then she typed back: *No problem!* and started walking home, step by step, down from the pyramid she'd built in her head.