Poolside Zombies

The backyard smelled like chlorine and coconut sunscreen, the kind that promises tropical vibes but just smells like chemicals. I sat on the edge of the **pool**, legs dangling in water that was way too cold for June, watching everyone else live their best lives.

Marcus had spent the entire party filming TikTok dances with Hannah and Emma. My so-called best **friend** since seventh grade, now suddenly too cool to acknowledge my existence. I'd been ghosted before, but being ignored in real time while physically present? That hit different.

I scrolled through my **iPhone**, refreshing Instagram even though I knew nothing new had posted in the last thirty seconds. The blue light reflected in my glasses, making me look like some kind of screen-addicted **zombie**—which, honestly, I was. My brain felt fried from three hours of pretending not to care that I was alone at my own party.

"You gonna sit there all night or actually get in?"

I looked up. Maya stood above me, dripping wet, Marcus's snapback pulled backward on her curls. That **hat** had been Marcus's signature since eighth grade, his whole personality wrapped in navy blue fabric. Now Maya was wearing it like she owned the place.

"Maybe," I said, locking my phone. "Maybe I'm just zombie-ing tonight. You know, existing but not really living."

Maya laughed, actually laughed, and sat down beside me. "Girl, we're all zombies. Marcus has been doing the same dance for forty-five minutes trying to get the perfect shot. Hannah's been in the bathroom fixing her eyeliner since I got here. Everyone's performing, nobody's actually living."

She splashed water at me, and before I could stop myself, I splashed back.

"Bet," she said, grinning, and shoved me into the pool.

The water shocked me awake. When I surfaced, gasping and laughing, Maya cannonballed in beside me. Marcus finally stopped recording, his stupid TikTok forgotten. For the first time all night, nobody was watching their phone. We were just there, treading water, actually talking about stuff that mattered—summer plans, our fears about high school, how we all felt like imposters in our own lives.

Later, as the party wound down, Maya handed me the snapback. "Keep it," she said. "Looks better on you anyway."

I put it on, already plotting how I'd explain it to Marcus tomorrow. But that was a problem for future me. Present me was too busy feeling like I'd finally woken up.