The Pyramid Scheme of Friends

I was basically a professional social media stalker by sophomore year. My spy game was lethal — I knew who Kylie was dating Tuesday, who ghosted whom by Thursday, and whose parents were definitely getting divorced by Friday. Yet somehow I remained perpetually on the bottom tier of our school's social pyramid.

The hierarchy went like this: actual popular kids at the top, their minions supporting them from below, then normal people, and finally, the foundation where I lived with my cat Mr. Whiskers and my crippling anxiety.

Then came the DM from Jordan.

'Hey, noticed you at my party last weekend. You seem cool. Wanna hang?'

I stared at my orange Gatorade like it held the secrets to the universe. Jordan, who sat two rows ahead of me in English and had 12K followers, wanted to hang? With me?

'Sure!' I replied, adding way too many exclamation points. A true rookie move.

We met at this bougie coffee place that sold eight-dollar lattes. Jordan spent twenty minutes complaining about their influencer brand deals and how exhausting it was being so popular. I nodded sympathetically, mentally calculating how many months of allowance would buy one of their outfits.

'You're actually really easy to talk to,' Jordan said. 'Unlike my fake friends.'

My heart did this embarrassing little flutter. Then Jordan dropped it: 'I'm starting a new wellness brand. Pre-launch team. Five people max. You in?'

The pyramid scheme alarm bells didn't ring until after I'd already committed two hundred dollars of my savings to 'starter inventory.' It took Mr. Whiskers knocking an entire shelf off my desk for reality to hit.

I confronted Jordan at lunch the next day. 'So this friendship thing... it was just recruitment?'

Jordan didn't even look guilty. 'Business is business, Maya. You'll thank me when you're driving a Mercedes at nineteen.'

I walked away. Alone. But somehow lighter.

That afternoon, I posted my first TikTok — just me and Mr. Whiskers being weird, no filter, no fake aesthetic. It got three views.

But then Sam from chemistry commented: 'lol this is actually hilarious.' We started talking. Real talking, not networking.

Some pyramids are worth climbing. Others are worth dismantling, brick by overpriced brick, until you find the people who'll sit on the floor with you and eat orange snacks straight from the bag.

Real friends don't have tiers. They just show up.