Orange Signal
Marcus felt like a zombie shuffling through the halls of Northwood High—existential, not apocalyptic. His orange backpack thumped against his spine with each step, a beacon of "I don't belong here" that he couldn't quite ditch. Three weeks into sophomore year, and he'd already mastered the art of being completely invisible while simultaneously feeling like everyone was staring.
His cat, Potato, was the only one who really knew him. A tuxedo cat with suspiciously human judgment in her yellow eyes, Potato spent her days perched on the windowsill, spying on the neighborhood like a furry private investigator. Sometimes Marcus imagined her filing reports: "Subject spent fourth period staring at Chloe again. Recommend tactical intervention."
Chloe, with her orange-streaked hair and laugh that could light up a bomb shelter, was the reason Marcus's existence had transformed into a zombie movie where he was the extra who dies first. He'd been orbiting her social circle since middle school, close enough to wave in the halls, distant enough that she'd never remember his name unless someone shouted it.
The Friday before Halloween changed everything. Marcus was sprawled on his bed, doom-scrolling through Chloe's Instagram story—she was at the lake with her friends, looking golden and perfect and miles away from his bedroom ceiling—when Potato let out a weird yowl from the window. Not her usual "feed me now peasant" scream, but something urgent.
Marcus padded over. Potato was staring intently at the house across the street, tail twitching with military precision. Through their window, Marcus could see Chloe's older sister, Sarah, talking to someone in a car he'd never seen before. Something about it felt off—maybe the way Sarah kept looking over her shoulder, or how the car had no plates, or how Potato's spy senses were screaming ALERT.
The orange streetlamp outside flickered. Once. Twice.
"You seeing this?" Marcus whispered to Potato.
She turned, looked him dead in the eye, and meowed with absolute conviction: yes.
His hands were shaking as he grabbed his phone. Marcus, the guy who'd never successfully spoken to Chloe without stumbling over his own tongue, was about to become something else. A spy. A witness. Someone who mattered.
The car peeled away. Sarah disappeared inside. Marcus stood frozen, Potato pressing against his legs, and suddenly his zombie existence felt like the most important mission of his life. He wasn't invisible anymore.
He was the guy who knew something.
And on Monday, he'd finally have something real to say to Chloe.