Three AM Zombie

Maya's goldfish had outlived two boyfriends, three friend group breakups, and her entire middle school emo phase. Now Captain Finbars was just floating sideways in his bowl, looking like the only honest thing in her life.

"You good, little dude?" she whispered, tapping the glass. He didn't even pretend to care.

Her phone lit up. *iceicebaby_99: u coming?? everyone's here*

Maya's stomach did that thing it always did — the pre-social anxiety backflip that felt less like nerves and more like her body trying to escape itself. Jordan's party. The one she'd been hype-girl-ing herself into attending all week. The one where Lucas would definitely be with his new girlfriend who was somehow both prettier and chill-er than Maya had ever managed to be.

She was already in zombie mode, moving through the motions of getting ready with the enthusiasm of someone organizing their receipts. The curling iron burned her ear. She almost put on mascara inside her lip. This was fine. Everything was fine.

Then Buster, her neighbor's golden retriever, started going absolutely feral outside. That specific I-smell-something bark that meant either delivery driver or genuine danger.

Maya peeked through the blinds. Some guy was standing motionless by the mailbox, just... vibing? At 11 PM? His phone lit up his face in this creepy way and he kept looking at her house.

Hard pass.

She texted Jordan back: *sorry fam, dog emergency 🙃*

Then she grabbed the family's scary-looking German Shepherd plush from her closet — long story involving a prank war and her poor judgment — and marched outside holding it like a weapon. "I've got a BIG DOG," she announced to the darkness, "and I am NOT afraid to use him."

The guy jumped like she'd thrown something. "Oh! Sorry! I'm waiting for my brother, he's —"

"Dog," Maya said firmly. "Big dog. Inside. Very bitey."

He left pretty fast after that.

By midnight, Maya was sitting on her front porch with an actual dog — Buster had escaped his yard and decided her porch was his new aesthetic — eating lukewarm pizza from the fridge and watching TikToks on her phone. Captain Finbars did a little swim when she came back inside.

She missed the party. She missed seeing Lucas and whatever new version of himself he was trying on. She missed the stories she'd hear tomorrow, the feeling that everyone had lived a whole life while she sat home being

...actually, she didn't miss it at all.

Buster rested his head on her foot. Her phone stayed quiet except for a text from her mom: *Hope you're having fun! Love you.*

Maya pet the dog's soft ears and realized her face didn't hurt from fake-smiling. She wasn't exhausted from being a version of herself she'd invented to fit in.

She was just Maya, with a dying goldfish, a borrowed dog, and the first Friday night in forever that didn't feel like a performance.

Maybe the zombie thing wasn't so bad after all. Sometimes you had to be undead to remember you were alive.