Dead Tired & Loving It

Maya dragged herself into third period, feeling like a total zombie after staying up until 3 AM doom-scrolling through her ex's Instagram. The fluorescent lights buzzed overhead, matching the static in her brain.

"You look rough," whispered Jake, sliding into the seat beside her. "Rougher than my cat after he got into a fight with the neighborhood raccoon."

Maya managed a weak laugh. Jake had this weird calico cat who acted more like a dog—greeted him at the door, followed him everywhere, even played fetch. He'd showed her pictures once, back when they were just lab partners.

"Mrs. Henderson's gonna pop a vessel when she sees me like this," Maya groaned, pulling her hood up. But she forgot about Mr. Harrison's strict no-hats policy until his shadow fell across her desk.

"Hat off, please."

The whole class turned. Maya's face burned. She'd thrown on this beanie without even looking in the mirror—her hair was probably doing something tragic underneath.

But then Jake reached over, yanked the hat off his own head, and plopped it onto hers. A navy blue beanie with "COEXIST" in different religious symbols.

"Trade," he said, grinning. "Mine's clean, I promise."

Mr. Harrison raised an eyebrow but kept walking. Something fluttered in Maya's chest that had nothing to do with sleep deprivation.

"You're literally saving my life," she whispered.

"Eh," Jake shrugged, turning to his notebook. "Zombie solidarity."

Under the desk, their hands brushed. Maya didn't pull away. For the first time since the breakup, the world felt a little less gray, a little more possible. Even on three hours of sleep and zero coffee.

Sometimes the best things weren't on her carefully curated aesthetic Pinterest board. Sometimes they just happened on random Tuesdays in third period, wearing some guy's hat and feeling like maybe, just maybe, she was going to be okay.