When Zombies Smile

Maya's hair was the color of a traffic cone—bright, unapologetic orange that made her stick out like a highlighter in a grayscale textbook. She'd dyed it herself last night, fueled by TikTok tutorials and the desperate need to reinvent herself before sophomore year. The problem was, now she looked like she was trying too hard.

"Nice hair, Traffic Cone," called Tyler from across the cafeteria. His friends snorted like that was the funniest thing ever. Maya slumped lower over her tray, feeling her face burn hotter than the regret already bubbling in her stomach. This was exactly what she'd been trying to avoid—standing out for all the wrong reasons.

Her phone buzzed. Lena: "Party at Jake's tonight. You coming?"

Maya's thumbs hovered over the screen. Parties weren't really her vibe. She was more of a "stay home with her pet goldfish, Bubbles, and overanalyze social interactions" type of person. But Lena was her only real friend since the Great Friend Group Implosion of eighth grade, and she couldn't keep flaking.

"Sure," Maya typed back. "Why not."

The party was everything Maya expected: too loud, too crowded, too much. She wedged herself into a corner, nursing a warm soda like it was her lifeline. That's when she saw him—Jake's older brother, Riley, dressed in a faded zombie costume from some forgotten Halloween, fake blood dripping down his chin as he laughed at something someone said.

He looked ridiculous. He also looked kind of beautiful.

Maya's brain chose that exact moment to turn into a zombie too—dead, stumbling, completely non-functional. Riley caught her staring and smirked, and suddenly she was moving toward him like she was being pulled by an invisible string, her heart doing gymnastics she hadn't signed up for.

"Love the hair," he said. "Bold move."

"Thanks," Maya managed. "It's... orange."

"I can see that." His grin widened. "I'm Riley, by the way. Resident zombie enthusiast and terrible dancer."

"Maya. Resident... person who's seriously reconsidering every life choice that led to this conversation."

He laughed—a real laugh, not the fake kind she was used to hearing from Tyler and his crew. "Well, Maya, since we're both being awkwardly honest, I've been working up the nerve to talk to you all week. You're always reading during lunch, and I kept wondering what was so interesting."

Maya blinked. "Wait, really?"

"Really." Riley leaned closer, lowering his voice. "Between us, I think my brother's parties are kind of mid. You want to get out of here? There's this sphinx statue in the park nearby, and I've been wanting to ask it why the universe decided 15 should be the age of maximum awkwardness."

Maya felt something unclench in her chest, something she hadn't even realized was tight. "Only if we can stop at 7-Eleven first. Bubbles needs more food, and I'm pretty sure social interaction counts as exercise, which means I deserve snacks."

"Bubbles?"

"My goldfish. She's a better listener than most people."

Riley's smile was genuine now, not the practiced one he'd been wearing all night. "Deal. But fair warning—if we're going to the park, I'm going to make you laugh at my terrible sphinx impressions."

Maya's orange hair suddenly didn't feel like a mistake anymore. It felt like armor, bright and unapologetic, exactly the way it was supposed to be.

"You're on, Zombie Boy."