Poolside Undead

The community pool at midnight was exactly where Maya wasn't supposed to be. But after three hours of SAT prep, her brain had officially entered zombie mode—not the cool,Netflix kind with dramatic makeup and storyline arcs. More like the actual undead variety: shambling through life, minimal cognitive function, sustained only on caffeine and spite.

"You coming in or what?" Chloe's voice cut through the humidity. She was already waist-deep in the water, that perfect effortless confidence Maya had been trying to hack since seventh grade.

"Hold on," Maya said, standing at the pool's edge in her oversized t-shirt and board shorts. The water looked like black glass under the moonlight, and suddenly all her insecurities were crashing in like waves. What if she looked ridiculous? What if her hair—that thick, frizzy mess she'd spent two years trying to tame with products and flat irons and acceptance—did something weird?

Chloe popped up from underwater, slicking back her hair. "Bro, it's literally just us. Who cares?"

That was the thing about Chloe. She lived in this completely different universe where "who cares" was an actual lifestyle choice instead of something people just said.

Maya's phone buzzed from her pile of clothes. Another GroupMe blowup about homecoming proposals—because apparently that was still a thing seniors did in 2024. Everyone was performing. Everyone was curating. Everyone was exhausted.

"You know what?" Maya said, something in her chest shifting. "Yeah."

She jumped.

The water shocked her system—cold and clean and completely real. She surfaced, sputtering, hair plastered to her face, and Chloe was laughing that genuine laugh that made everything feel less terrible.

"See? Not so bad," Chloe said.

"My hair looks like a drowned rat," Maya said, but she was smiling too.

"Drowned rats are underrated. Besides, we're basically zombies anyway. Might as well embrace it." Chloe splashed her. "Your SAT scores aren't gonna save you from the apocalypse."

"Fair." Maya dove under again, letting the water drown out everything else. The expectations, the college applications, the carefully maintained social media persona. Down here, it was just her and the water and the rare feeling of being exactly who she was.

When she came up for air, Chloe was floating on her back, staring at the sky. "Hey Maya?"

"Yeah?"

"I like your hair better like this."

Maya touched her wet curls, really looked at them for the first time in forever. "Yeah," she said. "Me too."