Orange Sky Morning

I was in full zombie mode—third period AP History, Mr. Henderson droning on about the Industrial Revolution like he'd personally invented it. My phone buzzed in my pocket. Not subtle. Mrs. Gable side-eyed me from across the room.

Chelsea: you coming to the meet??

Running. That's what I should have been doing. Literally. Cross-country practice started in fifteen minutes and I was stuck contemplating child labor laws from 1800.

"Emergency bathroom break," I whispered to Maya, my designated everything-handler since kindergarten. She nodded, already sliding her phone under her notebook to cover for my escape.

The hallways were empty—orange afternoon light spilling through the lockers, that weird golden hour that makes everything feel cinematic and fake. I grabbed my vitamin stash from my locker. Mom's latest obsession: "These will help you focus, sweetie." Spoiler: they just made me burp tropical fruit flavors all day.

I rounded the corner near the gym and BAM—there he was. Tyler. Leaning against the wall like he'd been sculpted there by the school's art department. And he was wearing that orange hoodie. The one that made his eyes look like actual amber.

He looked up and I froze. Total deer-in-headlights moment.

"Hey, you're that spy girl from English, right?"

My brain short-circuited. "The what now?"

"From Mr. Lee's class. You were analyzing that poem about surveillance?" He pushed off the wall, moving closer. "It was kinda brilliant."

OH. The spy poem. My face was basically a tomato.

"I, uh, yeah. That was me. Being brilliant. Accidentally."

He laughed and something in my chest did that stupid flutter thing it does in movies I claim to hate. "You coming to watch track?"

"Actually I run. Like, I'm on the team. Not watching. Running."

Tyler's face lit up. "No way. You're Zombie Girl from Saturday's meet? The one who PR'd by thirty seconds and looked like she was about to pass out at the finish line?"

"That is NOT my nickname."

"It is now," he grinned. "Come on, Zombie. Let's see if you can outrun me today."

And that's how I ended up running toward the orange-tinged sunset, somehow feeling more alive than I had in weeks, vitamin burps and all. Turns out sometimes you just need someone to notice you're not actually a zombie at all.