The Zombie at Lunch Table Seven

Maya dragged herself to the cafeteria, feeling like a straight-up zombie. Three hours of sleep AP Biology test that morning caffeine crash hitting her like a freight train. She slumped into her usual spot at Table Seven, the designated island for socially awkward freshmen.

"You look like you died twice," said Leo, sliding his tray across the table.

"Thanks, Leo. Really boosting my confidence here."

"No, for real. My cousin says this is what happens when you listen to that "uplifting morning playlist" bs instead of actually sleeping."

"Whatever." Maya poked at her lunch. The cafeteria was serving spinach salad again—wilted, sad, basically green confetti. But her mom had been on this "eat more brain food" kick since parent-teacher conferences, so here she was, forcing down leaves.

"You heard about Jessica?" Leo whispered, nodding toward the popular table. "She's starting this new pyramid scheme."

"For what?"

"Wellness shakes. She's trying to recruit everyone into her "downline" or whatever. Told me I could make five hundred a week if I just found three people to sign up under me."

Maya snorted. "That's literally a pyramid scheme."

"That's what I said! She told me I had a "scarcity mindset" and that's why I'm broke."

Something in Maya snapped. The sleep deprivation, the social hierarchy that made Table Seven feel like leper colony, the absolute bull of high school—the whole system was designed to make them feel small. Jessica sitting at the cool kids' table, thinking she could scam people because her dad owned a dealership.

Before she could stop herself, Maya stood up.

"Where are you going?" Leo hissed.

She marched straight to Jessica's table. The entire cafeteria went silent. Jessica looked up, confused.

"Your pyramid scheme?" Maya said, voice shaking but loud. "It's bs. And everyone knows it."

Jessica's face turned the color of Marinara sauce. "Excuse me?"

"You heard me. Stop preying on people just because you think you're at the top of some imaginary pyramid. We're not stupid."

Someone at the soccer table laughed. Then someone else. Pretty soon, half the cafeteria was snickering. Jessica grabbed her tray and stormed out.

Maya returned to Table Seven, heart hammering against her ribs. Leo was staring at her like she'd just revealed she was secretly a government spy.

"That," he said, "was the most hardcore thing I've ever seen."

Maya sat down and finally took a bite of her spinach. It actually didn't taste that bad. "Yeah?"

"Yeah. You're not a zombie anymore, Maya. You're, like, awake."

She smiled for the first time all day. Maybe high school wasn't so bad after all.