Wi-Fi Zombies & Palm Tree Dreams

The party was supposedly "lit" but honestly? Maya felt like she was trapped in one of those zombie apocalypse movies where everyone's brain dead, just scrolling through their feeds instead of actually living. She leaned against the palm tree in Jake's backyard, silently wishing she'd stayed home with her cat Mochi.

"Yo Maya, you good?" Jake appeared, sliding down beside her. He had that cute skateboarder vibe that made half the sophomore class swoon.

"Yeah," she lied. "Just... the WiFi's kinda dead."

"The cable modem's been tripping all night," he laughed. "But honestly? Might be better this way. Everyone's actually talking instead of posting stories about it."

Maya snorted. "Bro, they're literally standing in groups on their phones. It's giving zombie." She gestured at the crowd, where heads were bowed in blue light, thumbs flying.

Jake's eyes crinkled. "Okay but lowkey, you're doing it too."

Maya's phone buzzed in her hand. She hadn't even realized she'd pulled it out.

"Touché." She tucked it away. "So what do people do at parties without WiFi?"

"Remember when we were kids and we'd just exist?" Jake picked at a palm frond. "No filters, no performing. Just vibe."

They sat there while the party swirled around them—zombie-like, caught between being present and being perceived. Maya thought about Mochi at home, how her cat never questioned anything. Just existed.

"My mom read palms at the boardwalk," Jake said suddenly. "She'd always tell me this line about how life's not what's written, it's how you hold your hand."

He reached out, palm up. Maya hesitated, then placed her hand in his. His fingers were warm, calloused from skateboarding.

"See?" His voice dropped. "You're gripping too tight. Let it open."

Something shifted—like a cable reconnecting after being unplugged for way too long. The party noise faded. The zombie trance of teenage social dynamics suddenly seemed ridiculous.

"You're different," she said.

"Weird different or weird-weird different?"

"Just... real."

Jake shrugged. "Someone's gotta be. Can't all be zombies."

They stayed there under the palm tree until Jake's mom called everyone for pizza. And for the first time in forever, Maya didn't feel the urge to document it. No story. No post. Just a moment that was actually, unironically worth living.