Friday Night Zombie Mode

Maya's palms were sweating against her phone case. Three notifications from Ethan, two from Sophie, and one meme that felt targeted. She took a deep breath, staring at her ceiling where a glow-in-the-dark poster barely illuminated her room.

"You coming tonight?" Ethan's last message read.

Maya groaned and rolled over. Friday night at Jordan's house. The same house where she'd accidentally spilled spinach dip all over her white jeans in seventh grade. The same house where everyone would be gathered, doing whatever cool kids did, while she sat in the corner feeling like a zombie.

Her phone charger cable was frayed again, exposing wires that sparked when she wiggled it. Typical. Just like her social life—barely holding together.

"Maybe," she typed back. Then deleted it. Then typed "sure" and hit send before she could overthink it.

Her stomach did that weird fluttery thing. Not like butterflies. More like a colony of angry bees.

Two hours later, she stood outside Jordan's door, heart hammering. She could hear bass thumping inside, smell pizza and something else—popcorn? Her palms felt clammy against the doorframe.

She walked in and immediately spotted Ethan by the gaming setup, headset around his neck, laughing at something on screen. Other kids were scattered across the basement—some on phones, some talking, couple of people she didn't recognize.

"Maya!" Jordan appeared, handing her a cup. "We ordered pizza, there's spinach artichoke dip if you want flashbacks to seventh grade."

Maya actually laughed. "Hard pass on that."

She made her way to the gaming area where Ethan was setting up. "Hey," he said, smiling. "Saved you a controller."

They ended up playing this zombie apocalypse game until her thumbs were sore. Ethan kept making terrible jokes that weren't even funny, but she laughed anyway. Around midnight, Jordan ordered more food and someone started a playlist that was actually good.

Maya caught her reflection in the darkened TV screen during a loading screen. She wasn't the kid with spinach-stained pants anymore. She was just... here. Existing. Not a zombie going through the motions, not the awkward girl in the corner.

Just Maya.

"Your thumb's bleeding," Ethan said, pointing at her controller hand.

"Worth it," she said, and meant it.

At 2 AM, her mom called. Time to go.

"Same time next week?" Ethan asked as they walked out.

"Definitely," Maya said, and it didn't even feel like a lie.

Her palm was still sweaty when she gripped her phone to check her notifications. But this time, it wasn't from nerves. It was from staying up too late, laughing too hard, and finally feeling like she belonged somewhere.