The Vitamin Apocalypse

I woke up feeling like actual death. Not the I'm-so-tired kind of death—the I'm-literally-a-**zombie** kind. My mom had sworn those orange **vitamin** gummies would fix my chronic exhaustion, but honestly? They just tasted like artificial sunshine and regret.

Welcome to sports camp, week two. My social status was approximately equal to that of a stapler in a pencil factory. The cool kids—Marcus, Jenna, and their squad—were already crushing it at everything. I was just trying not to embarrass myself.

"Catch!" someone yelled.

I looked up too late. A **baseball** smacked into my glove with a solid thud, surprising both of us. My arm moved on instinct, throwing it back. Nice. Actual nice.

Marcus snorted. "Not terrible, Zombie Boy."

The nickname stuck, which was mortifying but also... something? At least they noticed me?

Afternoon rotations rolled around. The cabin assignments got posted, and I ended up in **padel** with the popular crowd. Padel's like tennis met squash and had a significantly cooler baby. I was secretly decent at it, thanks to my dad's weekend obsession with racquet sports.

Then my vision started swimming. Not the I'm-just-tired kind of swimming—the I'm-gonna-pass-out kind.

I kept **running** toward the ball, but my legs felt like lead pipes. Everything went narrow and fuzzy. The last thing I registered was Marcus shouting something before the ground rushed up to meet me.

Woke up in the infirmary to Nurse Collins checking my pupils.

"What happened?" I croaked.

"Dehydration," she said, not looking up. "And apparently someone's been taking five times the recommended dose of vitamin D supplements."

Oh.

OH.

I'd been grabbing from the wrong bottle. My sister's prescription vitamins, not my regular ones. The orange gummies of doom.

Three hours later, I'm back at the cabin, chugging Gatorade and being aggressively hydrated by everyone. Marcus is practically shoving electrolytes at my face.

"Dude," he said, "you overdosed on vitamins trying to become a better athlete? That's unhinged levels of dedication."

"It was accidental!"

"Still." Jenna grinned. "Vitamin Apocalypse 2026. We're literally calling it that now."

And just like that, I was in. The kid who almost died trying too hard. The guy who turned vitamin poisoning into a personality trait.

Maybe camp wasn't so bad after all.