When Zombies Text Back

Maya's eyes burned like she'd been staring at the sun, which, technically, she had—her phone screen glowing at 2 AM while her crush's profile sat open. She was basically a zombie at this point, surviving on orange soda and three hours of sleep.

"You're spying again," Lena said, dropping onto Maya's bed. Lena's newly-dyed orange hair fell over her eyes like a curtain. "It's creepy, Maya. Literally creepy."

"I'm not spying," Maya protested, locking her phone way too fast. "I'm... gathering intel. There's a difference."

"That's literally what spying IS."

Maya rolled onto her back, staring at the ceiling. Her life was a mess. Her parents were fighting about money again, the school counselor kept asking if she was 'okay' (she wasn't), and now her crush was posting Instagram stories with someone else—some girl from another school with perfect skin and a smile that didn't look like it was faking it.

And the internet kept cutting out because they were still using some ancient cable connection from 2015.

"He posted another story," Lena said softly.

Maya's heart did that stupid thing where it forgot how to beat. "What?"

"With her. The girl."

Maya grabbed her phone, thumbs hovering. She could click. She could see. She could spiral.

Instead she threw it onto her pillow. "Whatever."

"That's not 'whatever,'" Lena said. "That's 'I'm hurting and I don't know what to do about it.'"

Maya's eyes stung. "I'm tired, Len. Like, zombie tired. Everything feels fake and stupid and I just want to—"

Her phone buzzed.

Both girls froze.

Maya reached over, hands shaking. The notification lit up her screen: Ethan had tagged her in a post. A meme about zombie apocalypse survival skills.

"He's thinking about you," Lena said, grinning. "While he's with her. That's weird energy, Maya."

Maya stared at the notification until the screen went dark. Then she grabbed her orange soda, shook it, and cracked it open.

"Whatever," she said again, but this time she meant something different.

Whatever happened, she'd survive. Zombies always did.