Poolside Dead Weight

The vitamin D gummies clinked in my pocket as I slid through the gate of the Maplewood Pool. Another summer of bleach and boredom stretched before me—until I saw them.

Three girls sat on the edge of the diving board, faces painted gray and green, looking like they'd crawled out of a grave. The chlorine smell mixed with fake blood and coconut sunscreen. One of them caught me staring and waved, her skin peeling at the wrist.

"Welcome to the zombie apocalypse," she said. "I'm Riley. This is Sam and Jordan. We're dead inside."

"Literally or metaphorically?" I heard myself ask before I could stop.

Riley grinned, exposing a blackened tooth painted with Sharpie. "Both. The baseball team calls us freaks. We prefer 'artistically inclined.'"

The baseball team. Of course. The same jocks who'd ruled my freshman year with the precision of military commanders. The same ones who'd made my life hell when I struck out in gym class dodgeball.

"What's with the makeup?" I asked, settling onto the deck chair beside them.

"Summer project," Jordan said, adjusting her decomposing jawline with practiced ease. "We're filming a zombie pool party. You know, for TikTok. Our followers eat this stuff up."

"Literally," Sam deadpanned.

I couldn't help it—I laughed. And for the first time all summer, I didn't feel like the weird kid with vitamin gummies in his pocket. I felt like someone who'd stumbled into something gloriously strange.

"So," Riley said, splashing water with gray-painted toes. "You gonna help us or what? We need a victim for the opening scene."

The baseball team burst through the gate then, led by Tyler, whose very presence made my shoulders tense. He stopped cold when he saw us—me, sitting with the zombie girls.

"What's this?" Tyler sneered. "Freak convention?"

"Actually," Riley said, standing up with undead grace, "it's a celebration. Of not being a total bull like you."

The pool went quiet. Even the lifeguard stopped checking her phone.

"What did you call me?" Tyler stepped closer.

"A bull," Riley repeated clearly. "As in, full of it. You think you're hot stuff because you can hit a baseball? Try spending three hours in zombie makeup while getting judged by the entire swim team. That's real courage."

Something in my chest unlocked. I stood up beside her.

"She's right," I heard myself say. "And FYI, your batting average dropped twenty points last season. Just saying."

The baseball team stared. The zombie girls stared. Tyler's face turned the color of tomato soup.

Then Riley grabbed my hand. "Come on. We've got a scene to film."

We spent the next hour staging the most ridiculous zombie pool party ever recorded. I played the clueless lifeguard who gets eaten first. The vitamin gummies came in handy as fake blood substitute. And when we posted the video that night, it got fifty thousand views in an hour.

But the real victory wasn't the views. It was sitting on the pool deck at sunset, chlorine-scented and exhausted, while the girls wiped off their makeup and Tyler sulked in the corner, finally just another background character in someone else's story.

"So," Riley said, gray face streaking with sweat. "Same time tomorrow?"

"Absolutely," I said. "But I'm bringing better fake blood next time."

"Deal," Jordan said. "Welcome to the undead, newcomer."

And just like that, I wasn't just the kid with the vitamin gummies anymore. I was part of the poolside zombie crew. And somehow, that felt like exactly where I was supposed to be all along.