The Vitamin Scheme

Maya stared at the text from Jordan, the senior who somehow made calculus look like a sport. 'Meet me after school? Important.' Her stomach did that thing — like she'd swallowed a handful of jittery **vitamin** gummies instead of the recommended two.

At lunch, her best friend Priya raised an eyebrow over her salad. "You're vibing differently today. Something's up."

"Nothing," Maya lied, though her face definitely betrayed her. The social **pyramid** of Northwood High had Jordan at the apex — student council president, varsity soccer, the kind of effortless cool that made everyone else feel like they were playing life on easy mode while the rest of them were stuck on hard difficulty. And Maya? She was solidly middle-tier, content to orbit the popular crowd without actually being in it.

"You're lying," Priya said. "Spill."

"Jordan texted me." The confession tumbled out. "But I bet it's about that stupid group project for chem. Probably wants me to do all the work while he gets credit for existing."

"Or," Priya suggested, "maybe he finally noticed you've been lowkey crushing since freshman year. Just a thought."

Maya rolled her eyes but couldn't suppress the smile. "Don't **fox** with me, Priya. You know that's not happening."

The warning bell rang. Maya's phone buzzed again — Jordan this time: 'Please? It's actually important.' Not 'urgent.' 'Important.' The distinction mattered, she decided.

After school, she found Jordan behind the gym, looking uncharacteristically nervous. His usual confidence — the kind that made answering questions in AP Lit seem like a performance art piece — was nowhere in evidence.

"Hey," he said, running a hand through his hair. "Thanks for coming."

"What's up?" Maya tried to sound casual, like she wasn't freaking out inside.

"So," Jordan started, then stopped. "Okay, I'm just gonna say it. I've been wanting to ask you to homecoming for like, ever, but I kept chickening out because you're smart and funny and way out of my league, and I figured you'd say no anyway, but my friends finally convinced me to just ask already, so — will you go with me?"

Maya stood there, processing. The Jordan that everyone put at the top of their imaginary social pyramids was nervous. About HER.

"Yes," she said, before she could overthink it. "I mean — yeah. Definitely."

Jordan's grin was worth every single vitamin-induced flutter in her stomach. "Awesome. Pick you up at seven?"

"Seven works."

As she walked away, Maya pulled out her phone to text Priya: 'YOU WON'T BELIEVE THIS.' Some days, the universe actually came through for you. And tomorrow, she'd definitely need more than two vitamin gummies — she had a homecoming dress to find.