The Zombie at Bottom Tier

Maya's fingers moved across her cracked iPhone screen with the muscle memory of someone who'd spent way too many hours doom-scrolling while pretending to pay attention in math class. The screen flickered—the battery was dying at 12%, and somewhere in her backpack was a charging cable with about three inches of exposed wire where the protective coating had given up months ago.

She shifted uncomfortably in her seat at the bottom of the cafeteria's social pyramid. Literally. The seniors and popular juniors claimed the booths near the windows—top tier. The regular people sat at the middle tables. And then there was this row of tables against the wall, where Maya and her fellow "zombies" rotted away in phone-induced comas.

"You look like you haven't slept since Biden was president," said Chloe, sliding into the seat across from her. Chloe's phone was face-down. Maya respected that kind of unbothered energy.

"TikTok got me at 2 AM," Maya admitted, finally looking up. "Also, I think I'm becoming a zombie. Like, literally. My brain is smooth." She gestured vaguely at her head.

"Girl, we're ALL zombies," Chloe laughed, pulling a perfectly intact charging cable from her pocket—brand new, the expensive kind with the braided nylon covering. "But at least we're self-aware. Unlike them." She nodded toward the popular table, where everyone was posting Instagram stories of their lunch.

Maya's phone buzzed. A text from her mom: "Come straight home after school. We need to talk."

The words hit her like a physical force. Her stomach dropped. Those four words never meant anything good.

"You okay?" Chloe asked, suddenly serious.

"Yeah," Maya lied, staring at the notification. "Just... mom drama."

Her phone died. The screen went black, taking her escape route with it.

"Here." Chloe pushed her fancy cable across the table. "Charge that thing. But maybe don't turn it back on for a while. The world won't end if you're offline for an hour."

Maya looked at the cable, then at the zombie table where she sat every day, then at the pyramid of social tiers above them. Maybe she didn't want to climb it anyway. Maybe she just wanted to sit here with someone who'd noticed she wasn't okay.

"Thanks," she said, plugging in her phone but not turning it on. "I think I will."