Poolside Zombies

The summer after sophomore year, I basically became a zombie. Not the brain-eating kind from The Last of Us — more like the kind who exists in a permanent state of sleep deprivation and social anxiety, scrolling through TikTok at 3 AM while my friends posted stories about their "epic summer adventures." "Dude, you need to get out," Marcus had texted. "Pool party at the country club. Saturday. Be there or be square."

"I'm already square," I'd muttered to my phone, but somehow I found myself standing outside the gated community in my oldest swimsuit, wearing a beanie pulled down to my eyebrows because it was my security blanket. A hat, in 90-degree heat. That's how much I wanted to be there.

The pool was exactly what I'd dreaded: crystal blue water, perfect bodies, people who knew how to exist without overthinking every breath. I stayed in the shallow end, pretending to examine the pool tiles like they held ancient secrets.

"Yo, zombie boy!" It was Chloe, the girl from my English class who sat in the back row and wrote poetry in the margins of her worksheets. She was standing near the padel court, holding a racquet. "We need a fourth. You play?"

"I don't—" I started, but she was already walking over, dripping pool water and confidence. "It's basically tennis but easier. Come on."

Somehow I ended up on the padel court, awkwardly swinging a racquet while my beanie slid down my forehead. The ball hit the wire fence. I missed. Everyone laughed — but not mean laughter. Real laughter. The kind that bubbles up from somewhere genuine.

"Hat too," Chloe said, reaching out. "Unless you want to lose it."

I hesitated, then pulled off the beanie. My hair was a mess. Nobody screamed.

We played padel for hours. I wasn't good — my coordination was still zombie-level — but for the first time all summer, I didn't feel like I was watching my life through a screen. When Marcus posted a group photo later, there I was: hat in hand, grinning like an actual human being, somehow part of something real.

The zombie didn't die that day. But maybe, just maybe, it learned how to live again.