Mascot Midnight

Maya dragged herself through third period, feeling like a total zombie. Finals week was literally killing her, and she'd mainlined like four energy drinks just to function. When the bell rang, she spotted Sam by the lockers—her best friend since kindergarten, though lately they'd been drifting apart. Sam had joined the cool crowd, started wearing those expensive hoodies, and basically forgot Maya existed.

"Yo, you coming to the game tonight?" Sam asked, not really looking at her, too busy tapping on their phone.

"Um, studying?" Maya said, though honestly she'd probably just scroll TikTok until her brain melted.

"You should. Everyone's gonna be there." Sam already walked away, mid-conversation.

That night, somehow Maya ended up at the football game anyway. The stands were packed, the air thick with popcorn and desperation. Their mascot, this sweaty senior in a bull costume, was running around hyping up the crowd. The bull costume was objectively cursed—like, who decided a angry cow represented school spirit?

Then the mascot disappeared at halftime.

Maya, needing a break from the social nightmare, wandered behind the bleachers and found the bull head abandoned on the ground. The guy inside it was Sam, sitting against the wall, wiping sweat off their face, looking completely miserable.

"What are you doing out here?" Maya asked.

Sam's face crumbled. "My parents are making me do this for college applications. 'Leadership experience,' whatever. I hate it. I hate everything lately."

They talked for twenty minutes while the game raged on without them. Sam confessed they felt like a zombie going through the motions—popularity, expectations, all of it. Maya admitted she felt like she was the one left behind, turning into someone bitter and jealous.

"We're both mess," Sam laughed.

"The biggest mess," Maya agreed.

They walked back to the game together, Sam in that ridiculous bull head, Maya carrying the body. Everyone screamed when the mascot returned like nothing had happened. But under that hot, sweaty costume, Sam wasn't performing anymore. They caught Maya's eye from inside the bull and gave a tiny nod.

Maybe they'd both been zombies in their own ways—Maya, resentful and alone, and Sam, trapped in someone else's expectations. But underneath it all, they were still just two idiots figuring it out.

And sometimes that was enough.