Summer of the Undead

The pool water shimmered like liquid sapphire, but Maya felt like a zombie—literally. Three nights of summer school finals had turned her into the walking dead, and now here she was at Jake's end-of-semester party, clutching a Fanta like it was her lifeline.

"You look like you're about to die," said Chloe, sliding onto the lounge chair beside her. Chloe was everything Maya wasn't: confident, tan, currently wearing an orange bikini that made Maya's one-piece feel tragic.

"I feel like I'm about to die," Maya groaned. "But my mom said I had to 'socialize' or she'd take my phone."

Chloe snorted. "Classic parent move. Hey, did you see Jake's cat?"

"What cat?"

"Exactly." Chloe pointed toward the house. "His cat, Mango, is apparently antisocial as hell. Hides under the deck all day. Jake's been trying to make him friendly since summer started, but no luck. It's a whole thing."

Maya nodded sympathetically. Mango the cat was legendary at their school—the orange tabby who had his own Instagram account with more followers than most seniors. Jake's older sister ran it, posting pictures of Mango looking judgmental in various situations.

"I relate to that cat," Maya said.

"Same though. Social battery: zero. Desire to hide under things: maximum." Chloe cracked open a lemonade. "So, zombie girl, you gonna swim or just marinate in that orange soda all day?"

"Marinate. It's my brand now."

"Fair. But you know Jake's been staring at you for like twenty minutes, right?"

Maya's stomach did that annoying flip thing. "No way. He probably thinks I'm weird for sitting here fully dressed."

"Or maybe he thinks you're cute and doesn't know how to approach someone who looks like they haven't slept since Obama was president." Chloe nudged her. "Just talk to him. What's the worst that happens?"

"He laughs in my face?"

"Then we laugh at him for being basic. Win-win."

Suddenly, something brushed against Maya's ankle. She looked down—and found herself face-to-face with Mango, who somehow was no longer antisocial but currently rubbing against her leg like they were best friends.

"No way," Chloe whispered. "The social hierarchy has shifted. The orange cat has chosen its champion."

Jake wandered over, looking half-nervous, half-amused. "Did he just—Mango NEVER does that."

Maya shrugged, suddenly hyper-aware of everything: the pool's sparkle, Jake's dumb smile, the way her exhaustion suddenly felt lighter. "Maybe he just likes people who understand the struggle of being socially exhausted."

"That's actually profound," Jake said, sitting down. "Also, you totally passed out in history today."

"I was NOT asleep," Maya protested. "I was meditating."

"Sure. That's why you drooled on your notebook."

Chloe cackled. Jake laughed. Maya wanted to die, but also... kind of wanted to stay.

"Whatever," she said, grinning despite herself. "At least the cat likes me."

"Yeah," Jake said, his voice softer now. "Same here."

By the end of the party, Maya was still tired, still felt like a zombie, but maybe—just maybe—being the walking dead wasn't the worst thing in the world. Sometimes the best things happened when you were too exhausted to overthink them.

And Mango? Mango followed her home. Jake's Instagram caption the next day read: "The orange cat has chosen his queen. RIP to my heart."

Maya screenshotted it immediately. Some things were worth staying awake for.