Dead Inside, Alive by Sunset

I felt like a straight-up **zombie** walking into Tyler's backyard bash. Summer before sophomore year and I was already lowkey dreading the social battery drain. My sister Jordan had dragged me along, promising "free food and possibly cute people," but I was mentally checking out before we even hit the gate.

The **pool** glowed that artificial blue, looking way more inviting than the cluster of juniors huddled by the snack table. I grabbed an **orange** Fanta from the cooler—classic coping mechanism—and pretended to be deeply fascinated by the condensation on the can.

"You good?" Jordan asked, squinting at me like I was a math problem she couldn't solve.

"Never been more alive," I deadpanned. "This is literally my peak existence."

She rolled her eyes and drifted toward her friends, leaving me to contemplate the meaning of existence while some guy did a cannonball that splashed half the party. I considered becoming one with the patio furniture.

That's when I noticed Maya sitting alone on a lounge chair, reading a book instead of, you know, actually socializing. Her **palm**—the hand, not the tree—rested against the cover like she was protecting it from the world. Bold move for a party.

My feet moved before my brain could overthink it. "What are you reading?"

She looked up, surprised. "Zombie apocalypse novel. ironically appropriate."

"For real? I've been feeling like the walking dead since I got here."

Maya actually laughed—a real one, not the polite kind people give when they're stuck in conversation. "The zombie metaphors write themselves. Want to sit? The water's fine, metaphorically speaking."

We spent the next hour trading book recs and roasting the people trying too hard to impress each other. Turns out we'd both been dragged there by older siblings and were equally socially exhausted. The **orange** sunset painted everything gold as Tyler's mom started calling people for pizza, and for the first time all day, I didn't feel like a zombie anymore.

"Same time next week?" Maya asked as Jordan motioned for me to leave.

"Only if there's more Fanta. And less people."

"Deal." She grinned. "You're not half bad for someone who looked like they wanted to evaporate when they walked in."

"That's the goal." Maybe summer wouldn't be so bad after all.