The Zombie in the Snapback

Maya pulled the snapback down lower. The brim shadowed her eyes, which was exactly the point. Across the backyard, Jordan laughed at something—which meant either the joke was actually funny or Jordan was performing his signatureFake Laugh™ number three.

Her iPhone buzzed. Mom again: "Having fun??" Maya typed back "Yessss" with three emojis because one felt insufficient and five felt desperate. She was barely seventeen and already exhausted by the social calculus of existing.

Her cat, Biscuit, understood none of this. Biscuit would simply sit on the book you were trying to read and demand attention through sheer presence. Cats didn't worry about whether they were being too much. Cats didn't overanalyze every comment in AP Chem like, Did that sound weird? Was that weird?

"Hey."

Maya jumped. A girl with purple-streaked hair dropped onto the lawn chair beside her.

"Sorry," the girl said. "I didn't mean to zombie-sneak up on you."

Maya stared. "Zombie-sneak?"

"You know." The girl gestured vaguely. "Moving all shuffly and quiet because you're in your head? I do it too. My brother says I walk like a Dementor when I'm tired, but I feel more zombie." She paused. "I'm Charlie, by the way."

"Maya."

"Cool." Charlie fished in her pocket, produced AirPods. "Wanna listen? I'm not in the mood to perform happiness today."

Maya considered the party behind them—the performance, the posturing, the way everyone moved like they were being watched even when they weren't.

"Yes," she said.

They sat there for twenty minutes, sharing AirPods and watching the sky turn that particular shade of blue that only existed in the space between afternoon and evening. Charlie didn't ask about her hat or why she was sitting alone. She just leaned back and said, "This playlist sucks actually," and they spent ten minutes aggressively critiquing someone's music taste until they were both laughing.

Later, Maya's phone would buzz with Jordan's text: "u ok?? u seemed off tonight"

She'd type back "im good" and then, because she was feeling brave, "made a friend tho"

And for the first time in months, the period at the end felt like a period—not a ellipsis, not a question. Just a period. Complete.