The Pyramid Scheme

Mika's mom dropped him off at the **pyramid**-shaped community center where the popular kids hung out every Friday. The **padel** courts were their territory, and Mika had been practicing his serve in secret for two weeks, watching tutorials until his eyes burned. This was his shot at climbing the social ladder.

"You got a haircut?" Jenna asked, barely glancing up from her phone as Mika approached. His **hair** was gelled into submission, every strand forced into submission like his nerves.

"Yeah. New look." He swallowed. "Want to play?"

She shrugged. "Sure. Whatever."

They played, and Mika held his own. But the real game happened later, when Tyler—the undisputed king of their school's social **pyramid**—challenged him to a doubles match. Tyler's team dominated, his serves smashing into Mika's backhand until his arm trembled. But Mika didn't quit. He chased every ball, diving until his knees burned, sweat plastering his hair to his forehead.

Afterward, Tyler actually nodded. "Not bad, kid."

That's when Mika saw it—the popularity wasn't about skill. It was about showing up, about not flinching when the ball came at your face. About leaning into the awkward.

His **cat**, Barnaby, waited at home, probably sleeping on his dad's loose **cable** collection again. Barnaby didn't care about hierarchies or social ladders. He just existed, unapologetically himself.

Mika canceled next Friday's plans to gel his hair and impress Jenna. Instead, he invited the new kid, Sofia, to hit some balls. She laughed when he missed, and he laughed too, hair wild and free.

"You're actually pretty chill," she said.

"Yeah," Mika grinned. "I guess I'm done climbing pyramids."