Dead Tired & Caught

Maya adjusted the brim of her baseball cap, sinking deeper into the library beanbag chair. Officially, she was studying. Unofficially? She was totally a spy. Her mission: observe why Caleb—the cute sophomore who'd transferred three weeks ago—kept sitting alone at lunch.

He looked like a zombie today. Dark circles under his eyes, hoodie pulled up, movements sluggish. Maya knew the feeling firsthand. Finals week had turned half the school into the walking dead, but Caleb's exhaustion seemed different. Deeper.

Her best friend Rio slid into the beanbag beside her, dropping her voice to a whisper. "Dude, you've been 'stalking' him for days. It's getting weird."

"It's not stalking, it's... research," Maya whispered back, though even she heard the bull in that. "Something's off. He carries this huge sketchbook everywhere but never opens it. He eats alone but seems totally comfortable with it. It's suspicious."

Rio rolled her eyes. "Not everyone wants to be the main character, Maya. Some people just vibe differently."

But Maya couldn't let it go. The next day, she accidentally-on-purpose knocked into Caleb in the hallway. His sketchbook flew open, and she caught a glimpse before he snatched it back—page after page of incredible, detailed comic art. Characters that looked like their classmates. Including her.

"Wait, you DRAW?" she blurted.

Caleb's face flushed. "It's nothing."

"That's literally not nothing. Those are amazing." She paused. "Why do you hide them?"

He shrugged, looking away. "People think it's weird I'm into comics. Or they want free art. Or they say it's a waste of time when I should be focusing on 'real' stuff." He made air quotes.

Maya blinked. "That's such bull."

Caleb cracked a tiny smile. "Yeah."

"Show me more?"

They sat on the floor in the empty hallway as he flipped through pages. Maya forgot about being a spy, about decoding the mystery of the new kid. She just listened as he came alive talking about character arcs and panel layouts, his eyes bright for the first time since she'd seen him.

"You're not really a zombie, are you?" she said when he finally paused.

"Nah." He closed the sketchbook. "Just tired of performing, you know? This is the first time I've felt real in weeks."

"Same," Maya said.

And just like that, the mystery evaporated. No spy mission needed—just someone brave enough to say hey, I see you, and that's enough.