The Scheme That Almost Killed Us

Maya's living room smelled like stale chips and desperation. Onscreen, my character in Apex Legends kept glitching—rubber-banding across the map like it was having a seizure.

"Dude, your Ethernet's trash," Maya said, not looking up from her phone. She'd been doomscrolling for twenty minutes straight, thumbs moving at lightning speed.

"It's not the cable," I protested, yanking the orange ethernet cord from the wall and blowing on the end like a boomertime cartridge. "It's the router. Again."

"You need an upgrade. This is literally 2010 tech."

"Not all of us have rich parents," I shot back, but lighter this time. Maya's dad had bought her a gaming setup worth more than my car. If you could call my 2004 Honda Civic a car and not a four-wheeled panic attack.

She finally looked up, eyes wide with that scary intensity. "Okay but HEAR ME OUT."

I knew that look. The last time she'd had that expression, we'd almost started a bubble tea business that definitely would have failed.

"My cousin Tyler? He's doing this thing. It's not a pyramid scheme—"

"It's definitely a pyramid scheme."

"—it's like, a multi-level marketing OPPORTUNITY," she corrected, finger quotes visible. "But listen, you buy in for $200, right? And then you get two people to buy in, and THEY get two people, and it's literally a pyramid of passive income—"

"MAYA." I flopped onto her beanbag chair. "That is the definition of a pyramid scheme. That's what 'pyramid scheme' MEANS."

"But Tyler made $800 last week!"

"And how much did he put in?" I asked, already knowing the answer.

She bit her lip. "Like... $500."

"So he's down $300. Math is undefeated, bestie."

Maya groaned and threw a pillow at me. "You're literally so negative all the time. We could be living our best lives right now."

"We ARE living our best lives," I said, grabbing a controller. "Now help me fix this connection before I rage-quit."

She scooted closer, taking the tangled orange cable from my hands. "Okay, try this port instead. And maybe don't yank it out of the wall like a maniac this time?"

Our shoulders brushed. Outside, summer crickets were starting up. School ended in two weeks—college applications, roommate assignments, the whole rest of our lives looming.

"Hey," I said quietly. "Whatever happens... we're good, right? Like, you're not gonna join some actual cult and leave me here?"

Maya snorted. "Only if they have good WiFi."

"Deal."

The game loaded. Character back. The cable held. And for a few hours, none of the scary stuff mattered. Just us, breaking stuff in a virtual world while the real one waited patiently outside.