The Vitamin Explosion Protocol

The social hierarchy at Westwood High operated like a pyramid I never asked to join. At the apex sat the "royals" — kids whose parents bought them cars they couldn't drive and whose biggest struggle was deciding which aesthetic to post. I was somewhere near the bottom, successfully blending into the lockers since September.

"Don't be weird," my best friend Maya whispered, elbowing me as I stared across the cafeteria.

"I'm not being weird. I'm vibing. There's a difference."

"You're literally acting like a spy, Jordan. Just go talk to him."

Him being Lucas, who sat with the theater crowd and wore vintage band tees that were probably actually vintage. The guy who'd drawn a tiny skull on his converse and made it look artistic instead of middle school.

I squeezed my water bottle, the plastic crackling. My nerves were already maxed out.

My mom had gone through her wellness era that summer, which explained why my lunch contained a container of papaya chunks instead of something normal. She'd also packed her "magic powder" — a vitamin supplement she swore changed her entire life. The papaya was actually low-key fire, but I wasn't about to admit that.

"You go talk to him," I shot back.

Maya, who had zero issues talking to literally anyone, rolled her eyes so hard I thought they might get stuck. "I have a girlfriend. You're the one who's been 'observing' Lucas since the first week."

"It's called having a crush, Maya. Not everyone can be as chill as you."

Lucas looked up and our eyes caught. I nearly choked on my papaya.

Then it happened — the moment that would live in infamy. As I tried to play it cool and take a sip of water, my elbow betrayed me. The vitamin packets exploded everywhere. Orange dust coated my papaya, my tray, and somehow, the front of my favorite hoodie.

I froze. This was it. My social life was officially over. I should transfer schools. Maybe move to another country.

Maya was losing it, laughing so hard she couldn't breathe. And Lucas... Lucas was walking over.

"I think you dropped something," he said, grinning.

"Please tell me that didn't just happen," I said, face burning hotter than the sun.

"You've got a little..." He gestured to his own nose.

I wiped it. More orange powder. Of course.

"The papaya's actually good though," Lucas said. "My grandma makes me eat it. She says it's a superfood or something."

"Your grandma sounds exactly like my mom," I said, and he actually laughed.

Real laughter. Not the polite kind.

"Our theater crew sits by the windows during lunch," he said. "You should join us tomorrow. We're doing a read-through of the spring play."

"Really?"

"Yeah. Unless you're planning another vitamin explosion."

I smiled, genuinely smiled. "I think I'm done with those for a while."

As he walked away, Maya mouthed "YOU'RE WELCOME" so dramatically that people three tables over noticed. The social pyramid hadn't exactly crumbled, but maybe — just maybe — I'd found my own level.

And honestly? The view was pretty good from here.