The Zombie Protocol

Maya's phone buzzed for the third time that minute. Another insta story from Jordyn—living her best life at the skate park, looking effortless. Meanwhile, Maya was functionally a zombie, operating on two hours of sleep and three iced coffees.

"You look dead," said Liam, dropping into the seat beside her. "No offense."

"None taken," Maya muttered, staring blankly at her chem worksheet. "I've been up since 4 AM finishing that scholarship essay. The one that's basically begging strangers to fund my existence."

Liam fished something from his backpack and slid it across the desk. A neon-orange bottle of gummy **vitamin** C. "Emergency rations. My mom's obsessed with immune support."

Maya squinted at the label. "Since when did you become a health influencer?"

"Since finals week decided to end us all." He leaned closer. "Speaking of endings—you and Jordyn still in that fight?"

The mention hit like a physical blow. Two weeks of radio silence since Maya had refused to sneak out to that party. Since she'd said 'no cap, I can't,' and Jordyn had rolled her eyes so hard Maya practically felt it.

"She posted about her 'ride or die' bestie yesterday," Maya said quietly. "Some girl from her art class. They're matching tattoos now or whatever."

Liam didn't say the thing—that Jordyn had been drifting away for months, that Maya's priorities had shifted without her. He just let it sit there.

Then, quietly: "You know what **zombie** rules are, right?"

Maya actually laughed. "Please enlighten me."

"You don't let infected people bite you," he said, completely serious. "Because they'll turn you into something you're not. And sometimes? You gotta put distance between yourself and the ones who are already bit."

She looked at him—really looked. Liam, with his scuffed Chuck Taylors and perpetually messy hair, who'd sat by her every lunch since seventh grade when nobody else would. Who carried extra pencils because he knew she'd lose hers. Who was currently feeding her gummy vitamins like they were survival rations.

"Since when are you the philosopher of the apocalypse?"

"Since my best friend needed a reminder that not everyone she lets in is supposed to stay forever." He popped a vitamin into his own mouth. "Some people are chapters. You're the whole book."

Maya's throat tightened. Because here was the thing she'd been too tired, too overwhelmed, too everything to see: Jordyn was leaving, had been leaving, but Liam was still here. Had been here, would probably always be here.

Her phone buzzed again. Another notification, another demand for her attention. This time, she didn't even look.

"You're a decent **friend**, Liam," she said, swallowing past the lump in her throat. "Decent."

"I'll take it." He grinned. "Now drink your vitamin water and let's fail this chem quiz together. That's real ride or die energy."

Maya smiled—really smiled, for what felt like the first time in weeks. The zombie apocalypse could wait. She had a gummy vitamin and a friend who stuck around, and honestly? That was enough.