The Night I Stopped Being a Zombie

The bass from Maya's house party thumped in my chest like a second heartbeat. I'd been standing in the corner for twenty minutes, nursing a lukewarm soda like it was the most interesting thing in the world. Social battery? Dead. Brain function? Minimal. I was basically a zombie at this point.

Then I saw it: a cat door near the kitchen, flapping as something slipped through.

Don't ask me why I followed it. Maybe my zombie instincts were finally kicking in. I ended up in the laundry room, where a calico cat was cowering on top of the dryer, tail puffed to maximum volume. Poor thing was terrified.

"Hey, buddy," I whispered, sitting on the floor. "The music's not THAT bad, is it?"

The cat inched toward me, then practically launched into my lap like I was its designated human. And that's when it happened—CRACK. Lightning flashed through the tiny window, illuminating everything in this blinding white moment. The power went out.

"Great," I muttered. "Now I'm a zombie in the dark with a cat."

"Least you're not alone."

I nearly jumped out of my skin. There, framed in the doorway with emergency flashlight-app lighting like some kind of cosmic setup, was Alex from my English class. The same Alex who'd read my poem out loud last week and said it was "actually kind of fire." The Alex I'd been lowkey crushing on since September.

"Is that... Pixel?" Alex asked, gesturing to the cat now purring in my lap like a chainsaw.

"Pixel?"

"Maya's cat. She's been looking everywhere for her." Alex slid down the wall to sit on the floor, and suddenly we were just two people hanging out in a laundry room during a thunderstorm, which was somehow the most normal thing that had happened all night. "I'm Alex, by the way."

"I know," I said, then immediately wanted to die. "I mean, we have English together."

Alex grinned, all teeth and mischief. "I know. I was hoping you'd show up tonight."

My brain short-circuited like the power had. Outside, more lightning streaked across the sky, painting everything in sudden stark brilliance. But for the first time all night, I didn't feel like a zombie anymore. I felt awake. Seen.

"You were?"

"Your poem about the vending machine?" Alex shook their head. "Absolutely unhinged. I respect that energy."

Pixel chose that moment to headbutt my chin demandingly.

"I think she likes you," Alex said softly.

"Yeah," I managed, while my heart did cartwheels. "I think she does."