Running on Empty

My beanie hat basically lived on my head junior year. It was my armor against the world—pull it down low, avoid eye contact, zombie-walk through the halls like everyone else. We were all just playing our parts in the high school apocalypse anyway.

That Tuesday, I caught Mike staring at me from across the cafeteria. Again. We'd been best friends since seventh grade, but lately he'd been acting weird. Distant. I'd catch him looking away fast whenever I noticed him. My stomach did that uncomfortable twist thing that happens when you know something's off but you don't want to admit it.

"Earth to Maya," Lena said, snapping her fingers. "You've been pushing that pizza around your plate for ten minutes. You good?"

"Yeah. Just tired." Zombie mode, activate.

But then I saw it. Mike slipped something to Jordan—the guy I'd been crushing on for months. They exchanged this look, and my heart plummeted. Was Mike spying on me? Reporting my embarrassing moments to Jordan? The humiliation was instant and blinding.

I didn't think. I just grabbed my stuff and took off, running out the side doors and down the sidewalk until my lungs burned. Running felt good. Running felt like leaving everything behind.

"Maya! Wait up!"

Mike's voice. I kept going, faster, until I had to stop and wheeze by the old oak tree off Main Street.

"Dude," he panted, catching up. "What's your deal?"

"What's YOUR deal?" I fired back. "Are you like, spying on me for Jordan or something?"

Mike looked confused for a second, then his face split into this huge grin. "Wait—you think I'm telling Jordan about you?"

"I SAW you two exchanging notes!"

"Maya." He shook his head, still grinning. "I was giving him your number. He asked me for it last week, but I kept forgetting because, you know, zombie brain." He pulled a crumpled paper from his pocket. "He wrote his Snapchat on this. Said to give it to you."

My face burned. "Oh."

"Yeah, oh." Mike punched my shoulder lightly. "I'm your friend, remember? I'm on your team."

I looked at my beanie in my hands and realized I hadn't needed it after all. Sometimes the zombies were just people too scared to show their faces. And sometimes running away wasn't the answer.

"Sorry," I muttered.

"You're buying lunch tomorrow," he said. "And you're texting Jordan."

I grinned, pulling my hat back on but leaving it pushed up this time. "Deal."