The Zombie Padel Incident

Marcus slouched against the chain-link fence, his oversized beanie hat pulled low over his eyes like a security blanket. The padel court blurred before him—everything blurred, honestly. He'd been up until 3 AM scrolling through his iPhone, caught in that zombie-like state where your brain feels like it's been replaced by cotton balls.

"Dude, you okay? You look literally dead," Jake said, spinning his padel racket.

"Fine," Marcus mumbled. "Just tired."

The truth: Marcus had been obsessively checking his phone all morning, waiting for a text from Elena—the girl he'd been lowkey flirting with for weeks. Nothing. Just the relentless zombie scroll through everyone else's perfect lives while his own remained spectacularly uninteresting.

Then his iPhone buzzed.

Marcus fumbled, nearly dropping it. A notification from Elena: *hey r u at the courts?*

*Yeah,* he typed back, thumbs flying. *Come hang?*

*omw*

Marcus's heart did that annoying flutter thing. He frantically adjusted his hat, trying to look casual but ready. Jake raised an eyebrow.

"You good now?"

"I'm always good," Marcus lied, straightening up.

Elena arrived five minutes later, carrying a racket and wearing a backwards cap. She spotted Marcus and waved.

"Hey! You joining?"

"Uh, yeah."

They played doubles, Marcus and Elena versus Jake and this sophomore nobody knew. Marcus served, his heart pounding like a drum solo. Elena grinned at him from across the court, and for the first time all day, he forgot about being tired, forgot about his phone.

Then his iPhone slipped from his pocket and clattered onto the court.

"ZOMBIE APOCALYPSE," Jake yelled, diving dramatically.

"What—"

"Your screen!" Elena pointed. "It's on!"

Marcus scrambled, running to grab it before anyone could see. But Elena was faster. She snatched it up, eyes scanning.

"Wait. Is this... fanfiction?"

Marcus's face burned. He grabbed the phone back. "No."

She laughed—not mean, just delighted. "That's actually kind of cool. What's it about?"

"Nothing," Marcus said, but he was smiling.

"Tell me later," she said, and served the ball.

They lost the match. But Marcus walked home feeling like something had shifted—like maybe being a zombie was just a phase, and maybe keeping parts of yourself hidden wasn't the only way to survive being sixteen.