The Social Pyramid Scheme

Marcus's palms were sweating so much he could practically water plants with them. Freshman year, and here he was, standing at the bottom of the high school social pyramid like some NPC in a game he didn't know how to play.

"You gonna try out for baseball or just stand there looking like a lost puppy?" his older sister Jasmine called from the driveway. She was a senior, comfortably perched at the pyramid's apex, probably texting someone equally popular.

"Shut up," Marcus mumbled, grabbing his bat. This was it—his shot to not be invisible.

Tryouts were a disaster. His first swing? Missed everything. Second swing? Hit the catcher's shin guards. The third time, he actually made contact, sending the ball sailing over the fence... directly into the neighbors' yard where their demonic cat Sphinx waited like a furry sentry.

"Not the cat again," the coach groaned.

Marcus had to climb the fence to retrieve it. That's when he saw her—Avery, from his English class, sitting on her porch with the most unfairly orange-haired fox he'd ever seen curled on her lap.

"That cat is literally evil," she said, watching Sphinx hiss at Marcus from beneath the porch.

"Tell me about it." Marcus held up his baseball glove. "I'm supposed to be impressing people right now, and instead I'm fighting a war with your cat."

Avery laughed. And then—miracle of miracles—she didn't immediately look away.

"You know," she said, scratching the fox behind its ears, "my brother says baseball tryouts are basically a social experiment anyway. Like, who can look cool while potentially making a fool of themselves in front of everyone."

Marcus wiped his sweaty palms on his jeans. "Yeah, well, I'm failing the cool part."

"Maybe." She shrugged. "But you're the only one who actually went after the ball instead of pretending you didn't see where it went."

He didn't make the team. But walking home, Marcus realized something about pyramids—they're built from the bottom up, and the people at the top? They started somewhere too. Plus, he had Avery's number now, and Sphinx was mysteriously missing from the neighbors' yard the next day.

Sometimes the best plays aren't the ones you expect.