Dead Inside and Wide Awake

The third-energy drink of the night wasn't hitting like I needed it to. I'd been up since 4 AM finishing that history paper Mr. Henderson claimed would "change my life" (spoiler: it didn't), and now I was zombie-walking through Jessica's Halloween party feeling like actual death.

"You okay?" Marcus asked, leaning against the kitchen counter like he owned the place. Of course he looked perfect—vampire costume, fake blood artfully applied, not a hair out of place. Meanwhile, I'd thrown together this zombie getup in ten minutes using my sister's old clothes and some green eyeshadow I'd found in the back of the bathroom cabinet. The irony wasn't lost on me.

"Living the dream," I said, which came out more sarcastic than I intended. Marcus raised an eyebrow, and I felt my face get hot. Why did I always say the wrong thing around him?

Mom had made me take these new vitamins from the health store she'd discovered—something about "teen brain development" and "immunity support." They were supposed to help with focus and energy. Instead, I was pretty sure they were just making me feel weirdly buzzy, like my skin didn't fit right.

I escaped to the backyard, needing air that didn't smell like cheap punch and middle school desperation. That's when I saw the cat—a sleek black cat sitting on the fence, watching me with those judgmental eyes cats always have.

"Yeah, I know," I whispered, sitting on the porch steps. "I don't belong here either."

The cat meowed, jumped down, and rubbed against my leg. I reached down to pet it, and for a second, everything felt okay. Just me and this random cat, existing outside.

Then lightning cracked across the sky, illuminating everything in this stark, weird flash. And there was Marcus, standing in the back doorway, looking almost as awkward as I felt.

"Your cat?" he asked.

"No clue whose cat it is," I said. "But it's nicer than anyone inside."

Marcus laughed—an actual laugh, not one of those polite ones. He sat beside me, and the cat abandoned me for him. Typical.

"I feel like a zombie every day," he said, almost like he was confessing something. "School, swimming, college applications, my parents asking what my 'plan' is every single dinner. Sometimes I just want to... I don't know, stop moving for a second."

I stared at him. Perfect, put-together Marcus felt like that too?

"Those vitamins my mom makes me take are supposed to help," I said. "Mostly they just make me feel like I'm vibrating at a weird frequency."

Another lightning flash. In that brief, electric moment, something shifted between us. Not in a romantic way—well, maybe a little—but in that way where you realize someone else sees the world like you do. Where you're not the only one who's dead inside sometimes.

"This party sucks, doesn't it?" Marcus said.

"So much," I agreed.

"Want to get pizza?"

"Absolutely."

We left without saying goodbye to anyone. The cat watched us go, and I swear it nodded approvingly. Sometimes the best moments aren't the ones you planned for. Sometimes they're just sitting on a porch step, feeling like a zombie, while lightning cracks the sky open and someone finally sees you.