Vitamin Zombies and Orange Hair

Maya's morning started with a handful of supplements—a neon-orange **vitamin** C gummy that tasted like artificial sunshine and promises of better skin. Her mom's wellness phase had been going strong for three months, which meant the kitchen counter looked like a pharmacy explosion.

"You look like a zombie," her best friend Leo said, sliding into the seat across from her in the cafeteria. "Rough night?"

"Rough week," Maya corrected, picking at her lunch. The fluorescent lights made everything look slightly sickly, including the suspiciously pale pasta on her tray.

The hallway by the art wing had become unofficially known as Zombie Lane—that stretch of school where everyone moved like the undead, weighed down by AP classes, college applications, and the crushing expectation to be extraordinary. Maya felt like she'd been shuffling through life at half-speed since sophomore year had begun.

That's when she saw her.

The new girl had hair the color of a traffic cone—a brilliant, unapologetic **orange** that made everyone stop and stare. She walked like she knew exactly who she was, flipping through a sketchbook while somehow navigating the crush of students without looking up.

"That's Riley," Leo said, following Maya's gaze. "She's in my art class. Apparently she moved here from Portland."

Maya watched Riley laugh at something—head thrown back, orange waves catching the light. She didn't look like a **zombie**. She didn't look like she needed vitamin supplements or approval from anyone. She just *was*.

Something twisted in Maya's chest. Not jealousy exactly, but a quiet hollow feeling—a question she'd been avoiding since the school year started: *Who am I when I'm not doing what everyone expects?*

The orange-haired girl caught Maya staring. Instead of looking away, Riley raised an eyebrow and smiled, like she knew something Maya didn't.

Maya's fingers found the vitamin bottle in her pocket. She thought about throwing it in the trash, about dyeing her hair some ridiculous color, about doing something that wasn't part of anyone's plan for her.

Instead, she stood up and walked toward the girl with orange hair, toward the possibility of being seen instead of just passing through like a ghost in her own life.

"I like your hair," Maya said.

Riley's smile got real. "Thanks. It's kinda obnoxious, right?"

"Yeah," Maya said. "In the best way."

For the first time in months, she didn't feel like a zombie at all.