Poolside Undead

Maya's limbs felt heavy, like she'd been dragging concrete blocks through wet cement all morning. Three hours of sleep will do that to you — especially when you spent them doom-scrolling through texts you shouldn't have sent.

"You look like a literal zombie," Kayla said, appearing beside her at the edge of the pool. Her orange bikini matched the inflatable flamingo floating nearby. "Rough night?"

"Something like that." Maya adjusted her oversized sunglasses, grateful for the shield. The pool party was in full swing, bodies everywhere, laughter overlapping with the bass-heavy music. Last year, she would've been in the center of it all. Now? Now she stood on the edges, watching like she was observing a different species.

"He's not even here yet," Kayla said, because she knew everything. "Stop doom-spiraling."

Easy for her to say. Kayla wasn't the one who'd accidentally sent a voice memo confessing feelings to her best friend at 2 AM. A voice memo. Who even did that?

"Remember when I won that goldfish at the carnival last summer?" Maya said suddenly. "Named it Captain Finburg. It lived for three days before my mom found it floating."

"Your point?"

"That's us. We're all just swimming in circles, waiting to float to the surface."

Kayla snorted. "That's so dark. You need to get out of your head."

Then she saw him. Connor. Walking through the side gate with that effortless grin, wearing that fox-embroidered jacket he never took off, even in July. Her stomach did something complicated and awful and wonderful all at once.

He spotted them. Waved. Started walking over.

Maya's brain short-circuited. What was she supposed to say? Hey, sorry about the voice memo where I poured my heart out? Just kidding unless you're into it? She felt paralyzed, stuck between flight and freeze.

"You got this," Kayla whispered. "Or don't. Whatever."

Connor stopped in front of them, water dripping from his hair. "Hey. Haven't seen you guys since... since the incident."

The incident. The words hung there like smoke.

"Yeah," Maya managed. "About that—"

"I was hoping you'd say something," Connor said, and his ears turned exactly the same shade as that fox on his jacket. "Because I've been trying to figure out how to respond without making it weird, but I think we're already there."

He looked at her, really looked at her, and suddenly she wasn't a zombie anymore. She was just Maya — exhausted, anxious, absolutely terrified, and somehow, incredibly, alive.