More Than A Zombie

The beanie was my shield. Pulled low over my eyes, it said leave me alone without me having to speak the words. I'd been wearing it for three days straight, which was gross, honestly, but ever since sophomore year started, I'd been operating on autopilot.

"You look like a actual zombie," Maya said, sliding into the cafeteria seat across from me. She was the only friend who still bothered trying.

I shrugged. "Feel like one too. AP Chem is killing me, my parents are already talking about Ivy League, and I haven't slept more than five hours since school started."

She leaned in, lowering her voice. "So let's do something about it."

"What?"

"Tonight. Come over. We're watching terrible movies and eating until we can't move. No homework, no college applications, no being perfect." She paused. "And you have to take off the hat."

I opened my mouth to make an excuse — I always had an excuse — but then I saw it in her eyes. She wasn't asking. She was saving me.

"Okay," I said, and something in my chest unlocked.

That night changed everything. We watched a zombie movie so bad we couldn't stop laughing, ate an entire pizza, and stayed up until 3 AM talking about everything and nothing. I took off the hat and forgot to put it back on.

Monday morning, I walked into school without it. My hair was a mess and I still had a million things to stress about, but for the first time in weeks, I didn't feel dead inside. Maya caught my eye across the hallway and grinned.

Sometimes the best friend isn't the one who tells you it'll all work out. Sometimes they're the one who reminds you that even zombies can come back to life, one bad movie and one night of being exactly who you are at a time.