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The social pyramid at Northwood High had seventeen distinct levels, and I was currently scraping the bottom. That's where Jason found me—sitting on my basement floor, surrounded by...
Marcus stood on the pitcher's mound, sweat tracing lines down his back like secrets he couldn't keep. The baseball felt alive in his hand—a weapon, a burden, a promise his father h...
The goldfish—named Captain Fin by the fifth graders—swam in slow, meaningless circles inside the plastic bowl on my desk. Mrs. Henderson had entrusted him to me for winter break li...
I felt like a **zombie** the entire summer after freshman year. Mom called it "screen addiction," but honestly? I was just emotionally exhausted from surviving the social **pyramid...
My dad's vintage fedora sat on my head like a fragile claim to individuality. "You're gonna roast in that," Maya said, not looking up from her phone. We were at the country club he...
Marcus stood against the wall at Jessica's house party, feeling like a total NPC in someone else's game. His phone was dead—literally at 2%—and he'd been doing that zombie scroll t...
Maya's mom had chopped three inches off her hair that morning. Three inches Maya couldn't afford to lose, not with Jordan's party tonight. Not when she'd spent weeks planning her e...
Maya dragged herself into third period, feeling like a total zombie after staying up until 3 AM finishing her AP Euro presentation. Her phone buzzed — text from Jaz: "u look dead. ...
The social hierarchy at Northwood High worked like a pyramid—perfectly triangular, impossible to climb, and definitely built by someone with way too much time on their hands. At th...
I'd been walking around like a zombie all week—three hours of sleep total, thanks to AP History crunch time and my mom's new obsession with kale smoothies at 6 AM. Friday at lunch,...
The fluorescent lights of Room 204 hummed like a dying refrigerator as Maya blinked hard, trying to focus on Mr. Chen's history presentation. She'd spent all night researching anci...
The vitamin gummies sat on my nightstand, mocking me. "For strong bones and growth," Mom had said, handing me the bottle like it was some magical cure for being five-foot-nothing a...