The Pyramid Scheme of Us

The locker room smelled like chlorine and bad decisions, which was basically my entire sophomore year in a nutshell. I was running late—again—because I'd spent ten minutes psyching myself up to talk to Tyler by the bleachers.

"Nice of you to join us, Martinez," Coach barked, blowing that ear-splitting whistle. "Warm-up laps. Now."

I jumped into the pool, the cool water shocking me awake. This was my element, the one place where the social pyramid of Jefferson High didn't matter. Cheerleaders at the top, swim team somewhere near the bottom, debate team forming its own mysterious sub-basement. Whatever.

But today, everything felt different. Because today, I'd finally heard the rumor Tyler's friends were spreading—that the only reason I'd made varsity was because my uncle donated new starting blocks. Complete bull, obviously, but apparently believable enough that Tyler had given me that weird look yesterday in AP Bio.

"You okay?" Maya asked, pulling herself out of the water next to me. She was the only person who knew about my Tyler situation, mostly because she'd caught me rewriting his name in the margin of my math homework like a total serial killer.

"Tyler thinks I'm a charity case," I said, staring at the rippling water. "Also, I think I'm going to quit the team."

Maya rolled her eyes so hard I thought they might fall out. "First of all, Tyler's opinions rank somewhere below 'what to eat in the cafeteria' on the importance scale. Second, you're literally the best swimmer here. And third—" she lowered her voice "—his little pyramid of popularity? It's gonna collapse the second we graduate. This stuff isn't real, Leo. But you? In the water? That's real."

I looked at her, really looked at her, and felt something shift. Not about Tyler, but about everything.

"You're annoying when you're right," I said, but I was already heading back to the starting block.

Later, when Tyler texted me about the swim team party like nothing had happened, I didn't even hesitate. I typed back: can't. training.

Some pyramids are meant to be climbed. Others? You just swim right past them.