The Fox and the Fake Tan

I walked into first period looking like a straight-up zombie. Three hours of TikTok doom-scrolling will do that to you. Maya was already at our usual spot by the window, looking annoyingly fresh.

"You look dead," she said, popping a gummy vitamin into her mouth like it was candy. "Want one? It's supposed to help with stress."

"Girl, I don't need vitamins. I need sleep and maybe a new personality."

The real problem wasn't the exhaustion though. It was Jordan. The boy I'd been lowkey obsessed with since September finally noticed me yesterday, and I proceeded to respond by choking on my own spit in the middle of our conversation. Smooth.

"He's gonna be at Tyler's party tonight," Maya said, reading my mind. "You should go."

"And do what? Stand in the corner like a weird bear that wandered in from the woods? Hard pass."

"No, you're gonna wear that cropped top we bought, actually talk to humans, and be smooth. Well, smoother than yesterday."

The party came faster than I was ready for. I walked in, heart pounding, and spotted Jordan immediately. Of course he looked good—black hoodie, chain, that effortless vibe that makes you want to scream.

Then I saw her. Harper. The kind of pretty that feels personal. Standing way too close to him, laughing way too hard at everything he said.

I turned to leave, but Maya grabbed my arm. "Oh no you don't. Be quick like a fox. Make your move."

"What does that even mean?"

"It means stop being scared and talk to him before you miss your chance. Again."

So I did. I marched over there, terrified but determined, and accidentally knocked over a solo cup in the process. Red splash everywhere. Harper laughed. Jordan didn't.

But then he looked at me and smiled. Not the polite smile. The real one.

"Hey," he said. "I was hoping you'd show up."

Harper's face dropped. My heart soared.

Sometimes the zombie wins. And sometimes that's actually the start of everything.