The Zombie Gamer's Oracle

Maya dragged herself through the school hallway feeling like a literal zombie. Four hours of raid practice until 2 AM will do that to you. Her best friend Jax caught up to her at the locker, looking suspiciously fresh.

"You look like death, but like, make it fashion," Jax said, gesturing at Maya's smeared eyeliner. "Also, Sarah's party tonight. You coming?"

Maya's stomach did that thing it always did when Sarah's name came up—the popular girl who'd somehow decided Maya was worth acknowledging this semester. "I don't know. My raid guild needs me—"

"No. You're going. I'll pick you up at eight. Bring your phone charger because Sarah's older brother has, like, every gaming console known to humanity and we're absolutely playing Mario Kart."

That evening, Maya sat on her bed watching her cat, Pancake, aggressively knock her water bottle off the nightstand for the third time that week. Pancake stared back with zero remorse.

"You're judging me," Maya told the cat. "That's fine. I'm judging me too."

At the party, Maya found herself cornered by a sophomore who'd apparently decided palm reading was her personality now. "Ooh, let me see your hand!" She grabbed Maya's palm before she could escape. "You have a really short life line. That's either concerning or you'll live forever. Infinite interpretations!"

"Cool, thanks," Maya said, trying to extract her hand.

Later, she and Jax ended up in the basement where a tangle of HDMI cables behind the TV looked like someone had attempted to summon a demon. Jax spent twenty minutes sorting through the mess while Maya sat on the floor, her phone battery at 4%, watching.

"Why don't you just wireless it?" she asked.

Jax gasped dramatically. "Wireless introduces input lag. Would you play with input lag? Would you?"

"Touché."

They played Mario Kart until 3 AM. Maya didn't win a single race, but somehow, that didn't matter. Her phone died. Her contacts were drying out. She was operating on pure adrenaline and questionable choices.

Walking home under the streetlights, Maya realized she hadn't felt like a zombie at all for the past five hours. Sometimes the best nights are the ones you barely survive.