The Goldfish Theory

Marcus froze at the top of the bleachers, watching the social pyramid of Jefferson High play out below him like some terrible reality show. At the base: the zombies—kids shuffling between classes, eyes glazed, existing on three hours of sleep and too much caffeine. He used to be one of them, back before he'd started running track and somehow tumbled upward.

"Yo, Marcus!"

Jayden appeared beside him, looking suspiciously energetic for someone who'd just finished AP Calculus. "You coming to Bella's thing tonight?"

"Nah," Marcus said, adjusting his backpack. "Coach has us running intervals until we question all our life choices."

"Bro, you're always running." Jayden flopped onto the bench beside him. "Speaking of, remember the Great Goldfish Incident of seventh grade?"

Marcus groaned. "We agreed never to speak of it."

"You were basically a zombie for a week," Jayden continued, completely ignoring him. "All that over one goldfish. My cousin's turtle died and we just flushed it and moved on."

"Sheldon was DIFFERENT," Marcus protested. "He had personality. He recognized me. He'd do this little dance when I came near the tank—"

"Marcus." Jayden's voice softened. "It was a fish. It had a seven-second memory span."

"That's a myth!"

"Whatever." Jayden leaned back, studying his phone. "Hey, you know what's wild? The whole zombie-thing isn't even scientifically accurate. Real zombies wouldn't be trying to eat brains. They'd be basically brain-dead, just shambling around aimlessly. Which honestly describes half our school anyway."

Marcus thought about it. The pyramid of popularity didn't matter at the end of the day. The zombies weren't the sleep-deprived kids below—they were the ones at the top, trapped in an endless loop of performing, posting, proving. At least he had track. At least he knew who he was when he was running, lungs burning, everything simple and clear.

"You're right," Marcus said finally. "But Sheldon? Still not just a fish."

Jayden snorted. "You're impossible." He checked the time. "Anyway, about tonight—"

"Maybe," Marcus said, standing up. "After practice. If I survive."

"You won't." Jayden grinned. "You'll be a zombie."

Marcus laughed, heading for the stairs. "Then I'll fit right in."