The Zombie Mission

Maya felt like a zombie most Mondays, but today was different. Today she had a mission.

"You're actually going through with it?" Leo asked, kicking his locker shut with a sneaker that had seen better days. "Brutal."

"She's been ghosting me for two weeks, Leo. Two. Weeks." Maya adjusted her backpack, checking her phone for the hundredth time. No new notifications. "I need closure. Or at least answers."

"So you're gonna what? Spy on her lunch table?" Leo raised an eyebrow. "Stalker vibes, Maya."

"It's not stalking if it's ... reconnaissance." She spotted Jenna across the cafeteria, surrounded by her usual squad. They looked perfect, effortless, like they'd stepped out of a TikTok feed that Maya could never afford to curate. Jenna caught her eye and smiled.

Wait. Smiled?

Maya's stomach did that thing—like she'd swallowed a swarm of nervous bees. Jenna never smiled at her anymore.

"Bro, she's signaling you," Leo whispered. "Go. Before you overthink it into oblivion."

Maya approached the table, her legs feeling like they belonged to someone else. "Hey."

"Maya!" Jenna's smile was genuine, which made zero sense. "I was hoping you'd come by. We need a fifth for Escape Room tomorrow. You in?"

The question hit Maya like a truck. "Wait—what?"

"I know, I know, I've been MIA." Jenna bit her lip, looking suddenly vulnerable. "My phone died and I lost your number, and then I felt too awkward to reach out because I thought you'd think I was ditching you, and—" She took a breath. "I really missed you, okay?"

Maya stood there, processing. All that angst, all those nights spiraling about what she'd done wrong... and Jenna had just been Jenna. Chaotic, forgetful, well-meaning Jenna.

"You're such a bullshitter," Maya said, but she was laughing. "I literally saw you on Instagram yesterday."

"Okay, valid." Jenna grinned. "So? Escape Room? There's a zombie theme."

"Only if we're not on the same team," Maya said. "Because I will absolutely leave you behind to save myself."

"Deal." Jenna handed her a chocolate milk from her tray. "Friends?"

"Friends." Maya took it, feeling the warmth return to her chest. Sometimes the worst monsters weren't zombies at all—they were just the stories you told yourself when you were too scared to ask for the truth.