The Pyramid Scheme

Maya's iPhone buzzed in her pocket, probably another notification she'd ignore. She leaned against the bathroom wall at Alex's house party, heart still racing from almost texting him. Almost.

The social pyramid at West High was simple: Alex and his friends at the top, everyone else trying not to fall off the edges. Maya had been comfortable in the middle until that Sphinx-like look he'd given her in AP English—like she was a riddle he couldn't quite solve.

"Maya? You okay in there?" It was Priya, her voice muffled through the door.

Maya flushed the toilet and opened the door. Priya stood there holding two plastic cups filled with something that glowed suspiciously orange under the LED lights.

"It's papaya punch," Priya said, reading her expression. "Alex's mom went on a tropical fruit kick. It's actually not terrible."

Maya took the cup, grateful for the excuse not to speak. Her eyes darted around the crowded kitchen. There he was, laughing with his perfect friends, completely at ease at the apex of their little pyramid scheme.

"Just text him already," Priya whispered. "What's the worst that could happen?"

"Public humiliation? Eternal awkwardness? Having to transfer schools?"

"Drama queen." Priya rolled her eyes. "You're literally making this harder than the SATs."

Maya's phone buzzed again. Not a notification. A text. From him.

*Hey, saw you earlier. You looked nice. Wanted to say hi but you disappeared.*

Her fingers hovered over the screen. The Sphinx had spoken first. The social pyramid suddenly seemed a lot less stable.

"He texted you, didn't he?" Priya grinned like she'd known all along. "I saw him looking for you."

Maya's thumbs moved before her brain could catch up. *Hey! Yeah, bathroom break. Out now.*

She grabbed Priya's hand and dragged her toward the kitchen. The papaya punch suddenly tasted sweeter. The orange lights seemed brighter. And for the first time all night, Maya wasn't watching from the edges—she was walking straight toward the center of everything she'd been too afraid to want.

"Game face," she whispered. "Let's do this."