The Friday Night Text

Maya felt like a zombie. Three consecutive nights of studying for AP Euro finals would do that to you. Her eyes burned, her brain felt like it had been replaced with Wikipedia articles, and she was currently standing in the corner of Jake Morrison's basement party, clutching her iPhone like it was a flotation device in a sea of strangers.

"You look like you're plotting an escape route," someone said.

Maya jumped. It was Alex Chen, the quiet guy from her English class. He was holding a red cup and gesturing vaguely at the pyramid of empty beer cans some seniors had constructed on the ping-pong table. A monument to excess.

"I'm mentally calculating how early I can leave without looking lame," Maya admitted, then winced. Why did she say that?

Alex laughed. "Same. I've been here forty-five minutes and I already texted my mom twice."

Maya's iPhone buzzed in her hand. Her best friend Sasha: «r u having FUN?? tell me everything» followed by five skull emojis.

"My friend wants updates," Maya explained. "She couldn't come tonight. She lives for these stories."

"Same energy as those girls who photograph their food for Instagram?" Alex asked.

"Worse. She wants the drama. Who hooked up, who cried, who made a fool of themselves." Maya paused. "I think she thinks she's missing out on the high school experience by being herself."

Alex nodded slowly. "You know what I figured out? The social pyramid thing? It's all in our heads. Like, look at them." He pointed at a group of seniors doing keg stands. "They look miserable."

Maya looked. Actually, he was right. The 'cool kids' weren't having fun—they were performing fun.

"Exactly," Alex said. "We're all just pretending to know what we're doing. No one actually reads the syllabus."

Maya smiled, genuinely smiled, for the first time all night. "I'm going to tell Sasha you said that."

"Don't. She'll think I'm weird."

"Too late," Maya said, typing into her phone: «met a boy. he gets it. the pyramid is a lie. we're all just zombies pretending to be alive.»

She pressed send, then looked up. Alex was watching her, half-smiling.

"So," he said. "You want to get out of here? I know a bodega that makes incredible sandwiches."

Maya hesitated, then pocketed her iPhone. "Yes. Absolutely yes."

As they walked out into the cool night air, she didn't feel like a zombie anymore. She felt like someone who'd just started a story she actually wanted to tell.