Monday Zombie Mode

By 7:15 AM, I was already operating on 80% battery. The weekend had been a total flop—three days of Netflix, zero social interaction, and now I was walking into school feeling like a certified zombie.

My hair had other plans, though. I'd attempted waves Sunday night and woke up looking like I'd stuck my finger in an electrical socket. Fantastic. Just fantastic.

"Dude, you look dead," said Jordan, falling into step beside me at our lockers.

"Thanks, Jordan. Really selling the confidence today."

"I mean it as a compliment. You're giving off mysterious vibes."

"Mysterious like I haven't slept since Thursday?"

"Exactly."

Jordan didn't get it. Neither did anyone else. The padel tournament was this Friday, and my parents were already on my case about it. ​"You should try out, Maya! It's very popular now!​ Like, thanks Mom, but also no thanks. I was about as coordinated as a newborn giraffe.

But then I saw him.

Caleb. leaned against the gym door, laughing with his friends, holding a padel racket like he was born with it in his hand. And suddenly, I was reconsidering my entire life stance.

My dog Buster chose that exact moment to wander through my brain—Buster, who chased his tail in circles and fell off the couch last week. If Buster could be that confidently weird, maybe I could survive embarrassing myself at padel tryouts.

Or I could just maintain my zombie status until graduation.

"You staring at Caleb again?

" Jordan whispered.

"No," I lied.

"You should sign up. For the tournament, I mean. He's doing singles and doubles this year."

I stared at Jordan. ​"Since when do you know anything about padel?​

​"Since I'm doing it too? Obvs.​ Jordan grinned. ​"Come on. We'll be terrible together. It'll be iconic.​

And that's how Maya Flores, certified zombie and hater of all sports, found herself at the padel courts after school, holding a racket she didn't know how to use, watching Caleb laugh across the net.

Well. At least my hair was already a disaster. What else could go wrong?

Besides everything.

Everything could go wrong.

But somehow, standing there with Jordan and a bunch of other terrified-looking freshmen, I didn't feel like a zombie anymore.

I felt like someone who might actually have a story worth telling.