The Social Pyramid Protocol

The pool deck at Jordan's house was basically a social pyramid, and I was somewhere near the bottom, clutching my iPhone like a lifeline. Jordan's parents were rich—like, second-home-in-Vail rich—so their pool had this fancy cable system that powered these massive floating speakers bumping Drake.

'Yo, Maya, you coming in or what?' called Tyler, who sat comfortably at the pyramid's apex with his perfect hair and effortless cool. 'Nah, I'm good,' I mumbled, though my swimsuit was already practically dry from sitting on the edge for forty-five minutes.

Kenzie, Jordan's girlfriend and undisputed queen of the pyramid, floated past on an inflatable flamingo. She caught my eye and gave me this tiny, pitying smile. I immediately opened Instagram on my iPhone to look busy, like I was choosing not to socialize. Classic.

Then this random thing happened—Jordan's little brother, still in his pajama pants with this ratty cable-knit sweater even though it was eighty degrees, came barreling out of the house and did this absolutely epic cannonball right next to Kenzie's flamingo.

She shrieked. Tyler jumped like someone'd electrocuted him. And I? I laughed. Actually laughed, loud and genuine.

Jordan's brother resurfaced, spluttering and grinning. 'That was for my TikTok,' he announced, holding up his own phone.

Suddenly the pyramid didn't feel so rigid. Kenzie was laughing too, her perfect hair dripping down her face. Tyler even cracked a smile, which I'm pretty sure caused him physical pain.

'Maya,' Kenzie called, 'get in here. We're doing cannonballs now. Everyone.' And just like that, I stopped checking my iPhone for notifications that didn't matter and jumped in the pool. The water was perfect, and for the first time all summer, I wasn't thinking about where I fit in the pyramid. I was just swimming.

Later, as we all ordered pizza and sat dripping on the deck, my phone buzzed with a bunch of new notifications. I didn't even check them. Some things are more real than a screen.