Dead Behind the Eyes

I felt like a **zombie** stumbling through third period, the fluorescent lights humming funeral dirges above my head. Senior year was supposed to be this epic climax, but honestly? I was just going through the motions. My brain had been fried by AP classes, college applications, and the crushing weight of everyone asking what I wanted to do with my life.

Then I saw Maya by the **water** fountain—my best **friend** since elementary school, the one person who knew I still slept with a stuffed octopus and had cried during that one episode of Avatar. But she was whispering to Jayden, tight and urgent, glancing around like she was casing the joint.

Suddenly I felt like a total **spy**, pressed against my locker, pretending to be fascinated by a flyer for the Spring Faire I had zero intention of attending. Were they talking about me? I knew Maya had been acting weird lately—short texts, canceled plans, that awful "nothing's wrong but also everything's wrong" vibe.

I caught her eye. She froze. Jayden snorted and walked away, leaving Maya standing there like she'd been caught stealing.

"What was that?" I demanded later, behind the bleachers where the cool kids went to vape and have existential crises.

Maya's face crumpled. "I was telling Jayden about your surprise party."

"My what?"

"Your eighteenth birthday? That's literally tomorrow?" She looked at me like I'd grown a second head. "I've been planning it for weeks. I've been acting weird because I've been coordinating with your mom and trying to keep it a secret and I am TERRIBLE at secrets."

I stared at her, then started laughing—really laughing, for the first time in months. The zombie feeling evaporated. "You're the worst spy ever."

"Shut up, you're getting a taco bar."

The **water** from the sprinklers hit us both, and we ran through it screaming, absolutely drenched and not caring at all. For the first time all year, I didn't feel like I was sleepwalking through anything.