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The invitation said pool party, but Maya's brain read social suicide. Standing at the edge of the concrete deck, chlorine stinging her nose, she watched the popular kids already in...
Maya's hair was doing that thing again—defying gravity, physics, and every hair product she'd wasted twenty bucks on. She yanked her beanie down, practically ramming it to her eyeb...
Maya felt like a total zombie as she dragged herself through the front door at 11:47 PM. Junior year was absolutely wrecking her sleep schedule, and tonight's chemistry study sessi...
The chlorine smell hit me before I even stepped through the gate. Jordan's annual pool party. The social event of the summer, apparently. I adjusted my beanie—yeah, wearing a hat t...
The popular kids sat at the top of the cafeteria like ancient Egyptian gods overlooking their kingdom. That's the social **pyramid** at Northwood High—beautiful, impossible to clim...
The ethernet cable dangled from my wall like a dead snake, and honestly? I felt like a zombie. Fourteen hours of scrolling TikTok, watching streamers live their best lives while I ...
Maya felt like a zombie walking into Franklin High, her brain still fuzzy from studying until 3 AM. The cafeteria buzzed with the terrifying social pyramid that ruled sophomore yea...
I felt like a literal **zombie** standing at the edge of Jessica's **pool**, clutching my red Solo cup like it was a lifeline. This was it - the first party of junior year, and I w...
Maya felt like a **zombie** dragging herself through the last week of sophomore year. Three AP classes, swim practice until 6 PM, and her mom's constant questions about college app...
Maya's palms sweat against her phone case. Summer pool parties were supposed to be iconic Instagram moments, but for her, they were mostly just awkward standing around with people ...
The papaya smoothie splashed across my apron, staining the white fabric a violent orange. Perfect. Just what I needed on day three of my first real job. "Bro, you good?" Marcus as...
Maya's kitchen had become a war zone. On the counter: a bottle of neon-orange vitamin supplements her mom had swore would transform her into an academic superhero. In the fridge: a...