Foxes at the Padel Court

The zombie apocalypse had already happened, but nobody noticed. We were all just walking through high school half-alive, drowning in AP classes and college apps and the constant glow of screens. I was definitely one of them—stumbling through hallway like the undead, surviving on energy drinks and three hours of sleep.

"You coming to padel tonight?" Jordan asked, already knowing the answer. We'd been best friend since seventh grade, but lately they'd been pulling away, trading our inside jokes for varsity jackets and parties I wasn't invited to.

"Can't. Got that history paper." Another lie. Another night scrolling through Instagram stories where everyone seemed to be living lives I wasn't part of.

The padel courts were supposed to close at ten, but I found myself there anyway, sitting in the dark, listening to the ball echo against the walls. That's when I saw it—a fox, all amber coat and clever eyes, standing at the fence line watching me like it knew something I didn't.

"You lost too?" I whispered. It didn't run. Just tilted its head like we were having a conversation.

My phone buzzed. Jordan. "Zombie mode activated. Pick you up in 10. We're playing padel in the dark. Don't be lame."

The fox dipped its head once, then vanished into the shadows like a ghost.

Jordan pulled up ten minutes later exactly, blaring that playlist we used to scream along to freshman year before everything got complicated. "You look like you've seen a ghost," they said, but there was something different in their voice—something real.

"Better than a zombie," I said, grabbing my racket from the backseat.

We played until 2 AM, neither of us keeping score, just hitting the ball against the walls and laughing about nothing and everything. Jordan told me they were failing pre-calc and terrified their parents would find out. I told them about the fox, about feeling like I'd been walking through the world half-asleep.

"You're not a zombie," Jordan said, hitting the ball so hard it ricocheted off three walls. "You're just... hibernating. But it's spring now."

The fox was gone when we left, but I didn't need it anymore. I had my friend back, and for the first time in months, I didn't feel like the walking dead. Just alive, tired, and ready to actually start living.