The Zombie Who Couldn't Run Fast Enough

Maya dragged herself through the hallway like a literal zombie, barely functioning after three hours of sleep. The purple circles under her eyes were basically their own ecosystem at this point.

"You look dead," said Jace, leaning against his locker with that annoyingly effortless vibe he always had. "Like, actually deceased."

"Thanks, Jace. Really feeling the love." Maya flipped him off without even breaking stride.

Track tryouts were today. Coach Miller had been hyping her up all season, saying she had natural talent, whatever that meant. All Maya knew was that running was the only thing that made her brain shut up for five seconds. That, and the fact that she was completely screwing up her timing.

The locker room mirror showed her reflection — wild frizz haloing her head like she'd stuck a fork in an electrical socket. Her hair had always been this way. Her mom called it "her crown"; Maya called it "a daily battle against physics."

She fished the vitamin gummy out of her backpack. Her doctor had said she was deficient in basically everything after the mono last semester. Great. Another thing to feel mediocre about.

The sky outside turned that bruised purple color right before a storm. Perfect. Just perfect.

Maya lined up at the starting line, her heart doing that thing where it felt like it was trying to escape her chest through her throat. Jace was there too, looking unfairly awake and ready.

"You got this," he said, and for once, he didn't sound sarcastic.

The first crack of lightning split the sky just as Coach Miller blew the whistle.

And then Maya was running.

Her legs burned, her lungs screamed, everything hurt in that familiar, terrible way. But for a second — just a second — she wasn't the girl who couldn't sleep, wasn't the one with the weird hair, wasn't the zombie barely holding it together. She was just motion. Just speed. Just the kind of electric aliveness that didn't come from energy drinks or desperate cramming sessions.

She didn't make the team. Not this time.

But as she stood there bent over her knees, rain finally starting to fall, hair plastered to her face, chest heaving — she felt something that had nothing to do with winning.

"You okay, zombie?" Jace asked, handing her a water bottle.

Maya laughed, actually laughed. "Yeah. Actually, yeah I am."