The Zombie Sphinx of Room 304

Marcus adjusted the fedora he'd thrifted, hoping it made him look mysterious instead of like a kid playing dress-up. It was his first day at North Valley High, and fitting in felt harder than advanced calc.

Then he saw her.

Jordan sat against an orange locker, wearing a black hoodie and reading Philosophy for Dummies like it was the most fascinating thing in the world. Marcus's stomach did that embarrassing flutter thing.

"Nice hat," she said without looking up. "You going to a jazz club afterward?"

Marcus froze. Was she roasting him? "Uh, no. Just... trying something new."

"Good." She finally looked at him, and her eyes were this intense gray that made him forget his own name. "Most people here are NPCs. At least you're leveling up your outfit game."

That's when he noticed her backpack pin—a tiny zombie holding a brain that said 'THINKS'. "You like zombies?"

"They're metaphor," Jordan said, closing her book. "We're all just walking around half-dead from homework and expectations, right? The real zombies are the ones who don't question anything."

Marcus's brain hurt. In a good way. "So you're, like, deep about horror movies?"

"I'm deep about everything." She stood up, slinging her bag over her shoulder. "Hey, you eat lunch yet?"

"No—"

"Cool. Let's go sit somewhere and you can tell me what that hat's really about." She gestured down the hall like she was already his best friend. "But fair warning: I'm like a sphinx. If you can't answer my riddles, you don't get to sit at my table."

Marcus grinned, adjusting his fedora with genuine confidence now. "Challenge accepted."

The orange hallway light flickered overhead, but for the first time all day, Marcus didn't feel like a zombie anymore. He felt alive.