Orange Soda Zombies

Maya felt like a zombie most mornings before 7 AM. Her phone buzzed—group chat exploding about the pep rally. She grabbed an orange from the counter and headed out, the fruit's bright color the only thing matching her apricot converse.

School was a maze of social landmines. She spotted Liam by his locker—the fox-eyed boy who'd transferred in October, all sharp features and quick glances that made her stomach do somersaults. He was leaning against the metal door like he owned the hallway, his snapback pulled low.

"Running late again?" he asked, catching her eye.

"Always," Maya managed, her voice cracking. Smooth.

He grinned, and something in her chest tightened. "Same. Hey, you going to Jake's party tonight? Everyone's gonna be there."

The invitation hung between them like electricity. Maya's default setting was decline—bury herself in blanket forts and British crime dramas. But something about Liam's expectant look made her reconsider.

"Maybe," she said. "If I survive chem first."

Liam laughed, and she almost forgot to breathe. "You will. I saved you a seat."

Maya floated through first period, barely registering the lesson on vitamin deficiencies. By lunch, her friends were already analyzing the interaction.

"He's totally into you," said Chloe, texting furiously. "You have to go tonight."

"I don't have anything to wear," Maya protested weakly.

"That's what closets are for," Chloe rolled her eyes. "Be there at eight."

That evening, Maya stood in front of Jake's house, heart hammering. Through the window, she could see people moving like colorful shadows—orange solo cups raised, music pulsing. She felt like running, but something stronger kept her feet planted.

Liam opened the door before she could knock. "You came."

"Apparently," Maya said, then immediately wanted to die.

But Liam just smiled—that fox-like smile that made her knees weirdly wobbly. "Come inside. I'll teach you how to survive a high school party without becoming a wallflower zombie."

Maya stepped across the threshold, into the noise and the chaos and the possibility. Maybe, just maybe, she was done running from things that scared her. Maybe tonight was the first night of the rest of her life.

And maybe, just maybe, she'd finally get that vitamin D she'd been deficient in—the kind that came from actually living.