The Social Pyramid Scheme

Maya's first week at Northwood High felt like climbing a pyramid during an earthquake. At the base? The zombies—students shuffling through halls, eyes glazed, thumbs moving furiously across iPhone screens like their lives depended on it. She'd seen actual people move with more purpose in those zombie apocalypse shows her little brother binge-watched.

"You sitting here?" A guy with carefully messy hair dropped into the seat beside her at lunch. His iPhone lay on the table like a third member of their conversation.

"Uh, sure?" Maya pushed her container of lukewarm cafeteria pasta toward him. "I'm Maya."

"Liam. You're new, right?" He didn't look up from his phone. "Welcome to the pyramid."

"The what?"

"The social pyramid." He finally met her eyes, and something flickered there—genuine amusement, maybe? "Top tier: athletes and TikTok famous people. Middle: regular folks who peaked in middle school. Bottom: zombies." He gestured around the cafeteria. "Everyone's trapped in their phones, living through screens instead of, you know, living."

Maya laughed. "So which tier are you?"

"Lately?" Liam pocketed his iPhone. "Trying to escape."

Her stomach did that annoying flutter thing. "What if there's a fourth tier?"

"What, like, people who don't care about tiers?" He grinned, and suddenly the cafeteria didn't feel so cavernous. "People who'd rather eat terrible pasta with a stranger than scroll through Instagram for the fiftieth time today?"

"Exactly." Maya took a bite of her pasta. It was gross, and somehow that made it perfect.

"Count me in." Liam pushed his phone away. "So, Maya the Pyramid Escape Artist, what's your story?"

She thought about the zombi-like shuffle of students in the halls, the invisible tiers that supposedly defined everything, and how five minutes ago she'd felt completely alone.

"My story?" She smiled. "Just started."

Somewhere beyond the cafeteria windows, the actual world kept spinning. But inside, the pyramid didn't seem so tall after all.