Vitamin Z

I'd been a zombie since finals week began. Like, actually undead—pale skin, eyes that couldn't focus on anything that wasn't a glowing screen, surviving on espresso and my mom's weekly care packages of vitamin gummies that she swore would "boost my immune system during this stressful time." Whatever. The only thing they boosted was my blood sugar.

"You look like actual death," said Mara, sliding into the booth opposite me at Java Junction. "No offense."

"None taken," I mumbled, picking at my lukewarm croissant. "I feel like it too."

That's when Jake walked in, fresh from a padel tournament with his hair still damp from the shower, holding a trophy like it was no big deal. Jake, who I'd been secretly lowkey obsessed with since September. Jake, who somehow managed to get straight As, play sports, and still have time for a social life.

"Hey, Skylar," he said, smiling like the sun actually existed outside this café. "You coming to the courts later? We need a fourth for mixed doubles."

My brain short-circuited. Me? Play padel? I hadn't picked up a racquet since middle school gym class, and even then I'd mostly used it to whack balls into obliv.

"She's in," Mara answered for me. "Sky's been needing to get out of the house anyway."

That afternoon, I stood on the padel court, my borrowed racquet feeling alien in my hand. Something shifted though—maybe it was the vitamin D actually hitting my skin for the first time in weeks, or maybe it was just that Jake was grinning at me like I was already part of the team.

I missed the first three serves spectacularly. But then something clicked. The ball hit my racquet sweet spot, and I sent it soaring over the net, landing right in the corner. Jake's eyes widened.

"Where did THAT come from?"

"I have hidden depths," I said, suddenly not feeling like a zombie at all.

Later, when Jake invited me to the upcoming tournament and I said yes without overthinking it, I realized something: I didn't need the vitamins or the perfect grades or whatever version of myself I thought I was supposed to be. I just needed to show up.

My mom could keep the gummies. I'd found my own vitamin Z—and it wasn't in a bottle.