The Social Pyramid

The cafeteria social pyramid was as real as gravity, and Maya was definitely somewhere near the floor — maybe the basement level where the boiler lived. She poked at the spinach on her tray, wondering if eating enough vegetables would eventually transform her into someone who didn't panic when Dylan waved at her.

"You're doing it again," said Jules, sliding into the seat across from her. "The thing where you overthink everything until your brain explodes."

Maya gestured helplessly at her lunch. "I had spinach in my teeth yesterday, Jules. For THREE PERIODS. And now Dylan thinks I'm the girl with the green smile."

"Dylan probably didn't even notice. He's too busy being at the top of the pyramid — occupying the penthouse suite with the other basketball gods." Jules stole a fry. "Also, that goldfish you won at the carnival died, like, three weeks ago. Time to let go."

The goldfish, which Maya had dramatically named Captain Fin, had lasted exactly six days. She'd wanted to flush him with dignity, maybe a tiny viking funeral in her bathroom sink, but her mom had said no because it was "weird and unsanitary." So Captain Fin had gone to the great toilet bowl in the sky without ceremony.

Maya's phone buzzed. A text from Dylan: *track tryouts today? you coming?*

She stared at it like it was an alien transmission.

"Well?" Jules demanded. "Are you going?"

"I don't even *run*." Maya's voice rose. "I walk briskly when I'm late for class. That's my athletic peak."

"So learn. The pyramid's not that deep, Maya. You could literally just climb it. One run at a time." Jules stood up. "I'm going to tell him yes. You're welcome."

"NO — "

But Jules was already halfway across the cafeteria, weaving through tables with the confidence of someone who definitely didn't have spinach incidents. Maya watched in horror as Jules stopped at Dylan's table. Dylan looked up, grinned, and actually *high-fived* her.

What.

Jules returned looking insufferably pleased. "You're welcome. Practice starts at three. Don't wear those shoes — they look like they were designed by someone who hates feet."

At 3:15 PM, Maya stood at the track wearing her least-ugly sneakers, surrounded by people who definitely knew what they were doing. Her heart was doing something concerning in her chest.

Dylan jogged over. "Hey, Spinach Teeth."

Maya considered flinging herself into the sun. "That's going to be my forever name, isn't it?"

"Nah." He grinned, and she noticed he had a tiny gap between his front teeth. It was kind of cute. "Everyone's had a food-in-teeth moment. In sixth grade, I had a whole piece of broccoli stuck there for literally the entire school play. I was a narrator. The irony wasn't lost on anyone."

Maya stared at him. "You're making that up."

"Swear on Captain Fin's grave."

"You named my dead fish?"

"Jules tells me everything." He started jogging backward. "Come on. First lap's easy. We'll build you up. The pyramid's got room for one more."

Maya took a breath and started running, spinach incidents and goldfish funerals and all the awkwardness that came with being fifteen somehow feeling lighter with every step. She still wasn't sure where she fit in the grand scheme of things, but for now, running up the pyramid didn't seem so scary after all.