The Social Pyramid Scheme

The cafeteria at Northwood High operated like a carefully constructed pyramid. At the apex sat the varsity athletes and Instagram influencers, their laughter cascading down through the layers until it reached the basement floor where Marcus and I had claimed a table since seventh grade.

"You're still thinking about it, aren't you?" Jordan asked, sliding his tray onto the table. His golden retriever, Barnaby, was somehow with him again—I swear that dog had more campus access than some teachers.

"Thinking about what?" I lied, already knowing exactly what he meant.

"The fact that you're literally on varsity cross country now, running sub-5-minute miles, but you still sit with us peasants." Jordan grinned, throwing a tater tot at me.

Barnaby caught it mid-air. The dog had better reflexes than half the track team.

"It's not like that," I said, though truthfully, everything had changed since I'd made varsity. The pyramid had shifted beneath me, and I was still figuring out where I belonged. My old friends treated me differently—like I'd betrayed them by getting fast. The popular kids acted like I was their new best friend, but only when they wanted something.

"Bro, you're literally climbing the social pyramid and dragging us along for the ride," Jordan said. "Barnaby and I support this. We expect VIP treatment at your meets."

"Barnaby doesn't even go here."

"Details."

The thing about climbing a pyramid is that eventually, you have to look down at where you started. And yeah, the view was different from up there. But looking at Jordan—my actual friend, the one who'd celebrated when I PR'ed, who let me cry on his shoulder when I didn't make state last year—I realized something.

The pyramid wasn't going anywhere. But friendship? That was real.

"I'm not going anywhere," I said. "VIP section for you and the dog. Deal?"

Jordan grinned. "Deal. Now are we going to talk about how Chloe from varsity cheer keeps looking at you, or..."

"Shut up, Jordan."

Barnaby barked his agreement.

Some things were worth running toward. And some things were worth staying put for. Figuring out the difference was the whole point, anyway.