The Poolside Apocalypse

Jay was technically supposed to be lifeguarding his neighbor's pool, but in reality, he was approximately 95% pool zombie. He'd spent the entire morning marathoning zombie apocalypse movies on cable, and now his brain was operating on roughly the same level of functionality as the undead on screen.

"Dude, you good?" Marcus called from the deep end, splashing water at Jay's legs. Jay blinked, realizing he'd been staring at the same spot on the concrete for five minutes straight.

"Yeah, totally," Jay lied, wiping what he hoped was chlorine drool from his chin. "Just deep in thought."

"Deep in what, coma?" Sarah laughed from her pool float. She was wearing that bikini that made Jay's stomach do nervous backflips, which was exactly why he'd volunteered for this gig in the first place. Big mistake.

Suddenly, his neighbor's golden retriever, Buster, came barreling through the fence gap Jay had forgotten to secure. The dog made a beeline for the snack table, grabbed a bag of chips in his mouth, and proceeded to sprint around the pool like he'd just discovered the secret to eternal happiness.

"Buster, NO!" Jay scrambled up, his phone (which had been precariously balanced on his knee) sliding into the water with a pathetic splash. Perfect. Just perfect.

The cable-connected speakers outside crackled and died—his phone had been streaming the playlist. Silence descended, except for Buster's manic barking and the crinkle of the decimated chip bag.

Everyone was staring at him. Sarah was laughing, but not in a mean way. Something about her expression made his face burn hotter than the sun.

"Okay, that was literally the most dramatic thing I've ever seen," she said, paddling over to the edge. "You look like a zombie who just realized the apocalypse started five minutes ago."

Jay's phone bobbed in the shallow end. His summer plans were officially drowned. But as Sarah hoisted herself out of the pool and grabbed a towel, she smirked at him.

"So, zombie boy," she said. "Since you're clearly not guarding this pool, wanna help me feed Buster before he eats everything?"

Jay looked at the dog, who was now happily shredding the empty chip bag. He looked at his phone, sinking slowly into the deep end. He looked at Sarah, who was still smiling at him like maybe—just maybe—this disaster wasn't completely tragic.

"Yeah," Jay said. "Yeah, I think I can do that."

Sometimes the apocalypse wasn't so bad after all.