The Social Pyramid Scheme

Maya stared at her cracked **iPhone** screen, thumb hovering over yet another Instagram post from the popular table. Junior year felt like climbing a mountain made of wet cement—exhausting and mostly pointless.

"You're doing it again," Liam said, sliding into the cafeteria seat across from her. "The pyramid stare."

"It's not a pyramid stare," Maya protested, shoving her phone face down. "It's strategic observation."

"Right. Because staring at the social hierarchy like it's the Great **Pyramid** of Giza is definitely strategic." Liam gestured vaguely toward the cluster of varsity jackets and perfect hair. "News flash: they're just people. Probably insecure. Definitely not ancient Egyptian royalty."

Maya smirked despite herself. Liam had this way of dismantling her overthinking that she secretly appreciated. Not that she'd tell him that.

The lunch lady plopped a gray mass onto her tray. "Is this... **spinach**?"

"Spinach's cousin, I think. Distant, slightly radioactive relation." Liam poked at his own lunch. "Remember when we were twelve and thought spinach would give us abs like Twilight characters?"

"Don't speak to me about my Twilight phase," Maya groaned. "I archived those cringe journals for a reason."

"I still have the screenshots."

"You WHAT—"

"Kidding. Probably." His grin was infuriatingly cute. "But seriously, Maya, you're overthinking the whole social ladder thing again. Remember what you said last week? About authenticity being your new thing?"

Maya looked at her phone, then back at Liam, who was currently wearing a sweater that looked like it had lost a fight with a rainbow. "You're right. I'm going rogue. No more pyramid watching."

"Good. Because someone needs to help me figure out if this spinach is actually glowing, or if I just need glasses."

"It's the mystery meat proximity effect. Contamination by association."

"You're weird, Maya."

"Weird is the new cool. Didn't you get the memo?"

And just like that, the pyramid didn't matter so much anymore.