When the Cable Died

Maya was practically a zombie by Friday afternoon. Three weeks of finals, zero sleep, and her parents fighting every night had turned her into someone who just went through the motions. The only real thing in her life was Barnaby, her ancient golden retriever who still acted like a puppy despite being basically blind.

"Dude, you look dead," said Leo, sliding into the cafeteria seat across from her. He peeled an orange, the citrus scent cutting through the gross school lunch smell. "Want some? It's actually good."

Maya shook her head. She couldn't remember the last time she'd actually tasted food. Everything was just fuel now.

"My internet cable got fried last night," Leo continued, completely aware he was carrying both sides of their conversation. "Lightning strike or something. Had to actually talk to my family. It was weird."

Maya snorted. A small sound, but it was something.

"Seriously though," Leo said, his voice softening. "You're not alone in the zombie zone, okay? Everyone's barely holding it together."

That's when Maya noticed it — Leo's hands were shaking too. The perfect guy, the one whose Instagram looked like a highlight reel, was just as wrecked as she was. Something shifted in her chest, like a crack in a dam.

"I can't feel anything anymore," she whispered, the words tumbling out before she could stop them. "Like I'm watching my own life through a screen, and I can't figure out how to log back in."

Leo nodded, like she'd just said something normal instead of terrifying. "Yeah. But you know what helps?"

Maya waited.

"Going home, hugging your dog, and maybe eating something that actually tastes like something. This orange is genuinely fire, by the way."

She almost smiled. A real one.

That afternoon, Maya actually noticed things on her walk home: the way the light hit the old telephone cables above the street, making them glow against the sky. How the world kept being beautiful even when she felt dead inside. Barnaby met her at the door like always, tail wagging so hard his whole body shook.

She realized then that zombies were supposed to be brainless, heartless things. But she was still here, still feeling, still showing up. That had to count for something.

She texted Leo later: thanks for the orange.

He replied instantly: anytime, zombie.

And maybe that was enough. Maybe being a zombie together was better than being alone pretending to be fine.