The Vitamin King of Sophomore Year

Maya had calculated the exact social pyramid of Northwood High, and she had unfortunately landed somewhere near the bottom—right above the kids who ate lunch in the library but definitely below anyone who had ever been invited to a weekend party. That's why it was completely insane when Riley, the goddess of the junior class, slid into the seat across from her in the cafeteria.

"So, I heard you're good with... numbers," Riley said, flipping her hair like it was a full-time job. "I need someone to help with my startup."

Maya's brain short-circuited. "A startup?"

"VitaPup. These revolutionary vitamins for dogs that make their coats shinier and their lives longer." Riley leaned in. "It's not an MLM if you believe in the product, you know?"

Maya should have said no. She should have remembered that her dad called every MLM "a cult with product." But Riley was looking at her with actual interest, and Maya was desperate enough to pretend that recruiting her friends and family to buy overpriced supplements for pets they didn't even have was somehow a legitimate business opportunity.

Two weeks later, Maya had somehow roped her little brother into buying a three-month supply of VitaPup for their aging golden retriever, Buster. The dog stared at her with judgment in his eyes every time she tried to get him to chew the "bacon-flavored" tablet that tasted like compressed sawdread.

"This is literally a pyramid scheme," her friend Carlos told her when she tried to make her sales pitch. "Maya, you're smarter than this."

"But Riley said—"

"Riley's using you so she doesn't have to call your grandma herself. That's how these things work."

The worst part? He was right. Maya found out Riley had recruited like six other "business partners" and was somehow already driving a leased Lexus. The social pyramid hadn't changed—Maya had just found a new way to be at the bottom of it.

But then Buster, who had been lethargic for months, started actually acting like a puppy again. He was chasing tennis balls and doing that happy dance dogs do when their humans come home. Her grandma called to say her poodle's coat had never looked better.

"So," Carlos said, watching Buster joyfully destroy a stuffed squirrel. "Maybe vitamins for dogs isn't the worst business idea ever?"

Maya smiled. "I'm quitting the MLM part. But I might start my own actual business. Like, a normal one."

"Finally climbing to the top of the pyramid, huh?"

"Nah," she said, scratching Buster behind the ears. "I'm building my own structure. Pyramids are for mummies anyway."