Vitamin Z

My palms wouldn't stop sweating. Like, actually catastrophic levels of sweat. I wiped them on my jeans for the third time, staring at Maya's back across the cafeteria. Her hair fell in these perfect waves that probably had their own Instagram account.

"You're literally going to pass out," Sam said, sliding onto the bench beside me. "Or worse — you're gonna talk to her and nothing's gonna come out. Like last time."

"Shut up," I muttered. My mom had made me take this vitamin D supplement that morning because apparently I never saw sunlight anymore. She'd dropped the tablet into my palm like it was some kind of magical confidence pill. Spoiler: it wasn't working.

My phone buzzed. Dad: Don't forget to walk the dog before practice.

Right. Buster. The family labradoodle who somehow had more game than I did. This dog could charm anyone into throwing his tennis ball, even the scary neighbors who called the cops on our party last month.

Then I saw him — Chris, sitting alone at a table by the windows. Everyone called him Zombie behind his back because he always looked half-asleep, like he'd physically checked out of school somewhere around third period. His hair hung over his eyes, and I'd literally never heard him speak.

But today something was different. His hands were shaking. Not like nervous-shaking, but like he hadn't eaten in way too long.

I stood up before I could talk myself out of it. My palms were still sweaty but whatever.

"Hey," I said, sliding onto the bench across from him. Zombie look up, confused. "You want this?"

I pushed my untouched lunch toward him. And because I'm an idiot with zero chill, I added, "My mom made me take these vitamins that are supposed to make me healthier or something. They're literally the size of horse pills but I have extras if you want."

Chris stared at me for like five seconds. Then the corners of his mouth actually twitched. Like, almost smiled.

"I'm good," he said, and his voice was deeper than I expected. "But thanks."

I walked back to Sam feeling like I'd just won the Olympics. Maya was still across the cafeteria, looking perfect and unreachable. But honestly? Maybe that wasn't the point.

"Did you just talk to Zombie?" Sam asked, eyes wide. "Since when are you guys—"

"Shut up," I said, but I was grinning. My palms were still sweating. But for the first time all day, I didn't care.