The Zombie in the Mirror

Maya stared at her reflection, looking like total death. Three hours of sleep after finals week would do that to you. Her eyes had that special glazed-over quality, like she'd been wandering through life in a zombie haze for approximately forever.

"You look like you need this more than I do," Jordan said, sliding a bright orange can across the cafeteria table. "New energy vitamin supplement. My mom's totally into that wellness crunch stuff now."

Maya cracked the can open. "Dude, if this doesn't work, I'm actually going to perish during the debate tournament today. I'm not being dramatic."

"You're always being dramatic." Jordan grinned. "But seriously, you've got this. You've been prepping for like, two months."

"And yet my palms are literally sweating right now just thinking about it." Maya held up her hands. "Look at this. It's gross. How am I supposed to gesture convincingly when I'm slipping and sliding everywhere?"

"That's what the paper towels are for, my friend."

The tournament wasn't for another four hours. Maya's stomach did that little flip-flop thing it always did before something important. She hated that her body betrayed her like this — sweaty palms, racing heart, the whole package. Like, why did nervousness have to be so PHYSICAL? So VISIBLE?

"What if I blank out?" she said. "Like, my brain goes full zombie mode and I just stand there making noises?"

"Then you'll own it. You'll be like, 'Sorry, my processor is buffering, give me a sec.' Everyone will think you're being hilarious on purpose."

Jordan's phone buzzed. They glanced at it and made a face. "Ugh, that group chat is blowing up again. Everyone's arguing about what we're doing after the tournament."

Maya checked her own phone. Eight messages from the debate group chat, three from Instagram, two from her little sister asking if she could borrow her hoodie. The constant notification fatigue was real. Sometimes she felt like her phone was basically a parasite, feeding on her attention span.

"I love them," she said, "but also, can everyone just CHILL for like five minutes?"

"Literally." Jordan tucked their phone away. "You know what I realized yesterday? That we're all just faking it. Like, everyone's pretending they know what they're doing, but literally nobody does."

Maya thought about that. "That's actually kind of comforting."

"Right? We're all just zombies trying to get through the day. At least we're doing it together."

The vitamin supplement still sat on the table, untouched. Maya suddenly didn't need it anymore. The nervous energy was still there — her palms were definitely still sweaty — but it felt different. More manageable. More human.

"Hey Jordan?"

"Yeah?"

"Thanks for being my person."

Jordan's expression softened. "Always. Now let's go destroy some arguments in the debate tournament. And then we're getting boba, because we've earned it."

"Deal. But I'm still bringing paper towels for my hands."

"That's valid. Self-care looks different for everyone."