Dead Girl Walking

I looked like a zombie. No, seriously—actual walking dead status. My eyes were puffy from crying half the night, my skin had that weird grayish tint from sleeping in makeup, and my hair was doing this birds-nest thing that would've impressed a biology teacher.

"You alive, Miles?" Jay asked, throwing a towel at my face as I slumped onto the pool deck.

"Barely," I mumbled. "I think I died somewhere around third period algebra."

Today was the day. The first day of swimming unit. The day every non-athlete kid dreads. The day you strip down to a swimsuit in front of the entire sophomore class and basically serve yourself up on a platter for judgment.

And I'd forgotten my swimsuit.

I'd remembered my towel. My goggles. Even that stupid swim cap that made everyone look like a bald alien. But the one thing that actually mattered? Nope.

"You're not seriously going in your underwear," Jay said, looking genuinely concerned.

"What choice do I have?" I pulled my knees to my chest. "Coach Davies will fail me if I don't participate."

Then Riley walked by—Riley with the perfect hair and the perfect laugh and the way of making everything look effortless. She was adjusting this floppy bucket hat that shouldn't have worked but totally did. The brim was huge, covering half her face like she was some incognito celebrity dodging paparazzi.

"Nice hat," I said, before my brain could stop my mouth.

She stopped. "Thanks! My brother got it for me from this vintage shop in the city."

"It's... bold."

"You want it?" She pulled it off and held it out. "I'm about to swim, so I can't wear it anyway. It'll cover your whole face—perfect if you're not feeling social today."

I stared at it. This random act of kindness from someone I'd barely spoken to. Something about her expression said she got it—understood what it felt like to want to disappear.

"Actually," I said, an idea forming. "Can I borrow it for a second?"

I put on the hat. The giant brim shadowed everything from my eyebrows down. I couldn't really see anyone, and more importantly, they couldn't really see me.

"What are you doing?" Jay asked.

"I'm going in," I said. "Like this."

"You're going swimming fully clothed in a vintage hat?"

"Watch me."

And I did. I cannonballed into the pool fully dressed, hat and all. The chlorine-soaked fabric weighted me down, the hat floated to the surface like some bizarre flower, and for the first time all day, I didn't feel like a zombie anymore. I felt alive— ridiculous, fully-clothed, hat-floating-in-the-pool alive.

By the time I dragged myself out, dripping wet and grinning like an idiot, half the class was laughing. But like, actually laughing. Not at me—with me.

"You're insane," Jay said, shaking his head.

"Maybe," I said, wringing out my shirt. "But I think I just figured something out."

"What's that?"

"Sometimes you gotta embrace the zombie energy. Own it. And maybe, just maybe, borrow a really great hat."