Party Survival Mode

Maya felt like a walking zombie as she stood in Jake's crowded basement. Her vintage Converse stuck to some spilled soda, and the bass from the speakers thumped against her ribs. This was her first real house party, and she'd already spent twenty minutes hiding in the bathroom scrolling through her iPhone, watching her friends' Instagram stories from cooler parties they weren't invited to.

"You look like you're plotting everyone's murder," said a voice beside her. She looked up to see Riley, the guy from her AP Bio class who always sat in the back wearing those same black hoodies.

"Just plotting my exit," Maya admitted, surprising herself. "This is... a lot."

Riley grinned, tapping his phone. "I've been here forty-five minutes and I've already escaped to the backyard twice. There's literally a guy out there trying to convince everyone he wrestled a bear at summer camp. Spoiler: he didn't."

Maya laughed, and something shifted. They spent the next hour dodging awkward conversations and watching the social dynamics unfold like some bizarre nature documentary. The popular group had claimed the kitchen like a pack of foxes marking territory. Some sophomore was winning a carnival goldfish in a plastic bag from one of Jake's weird party games.

"Wanna get out of here?" Riley asked suddenly. "I know a spot."

They ended up at the playground down the street, swinging gently and talking about everything and nothing—college apps, overbearing parents, how fake everyone tried to be. Riley admitted he'd come to the party because his mom said he needed to "work on social skills." Maya confessed she'd only come because her friends dared her.

"We're both zombies, huh?" Riley said, kicking at the woodchips. "Just going through the motions because we're supposed to."

Maya looked at him—really looked at him—and thought maybe, just maybe, she'd found someone who got it. Someone who didn't need to pretend.

"Or," she said, pulling her iPhone from her pocket, "we're just saving our energy for things that actually matter."

She snapped a photo of the moon hanging huge over the swingset, no filter needed.

"What things?" Riley asked, soft.

Maya smiled. "Like this. Like right now."

Her phone buzzed—friends demanding to know where she was, parties she was missing. She silenced it and swung higher.

Let them be zombies. She was finally awake.