Zombie状态的狗

I was basically a **zombie** that Friday – third straight day of finals, brain fried, surviving on caffeine and pure spite. My existence that week could be summed up in one emoji: 💀.

"Marcus, you good?" Jenna asked at lunch, genuinely concerned for the first time since I'd known her.

"Never been more dead inside," I said, which was technically true.

The plan: spend Saturday rotting in bed. The universe's plan: something completely different.

My sister's **dog** – this chaotic golden retriever named Buster who answers to no one – somehow escaped the backyard. I was the only one home, so naturally, I had to go chase him down.

I spent twenty minutes **running** through the neighborhood in my pajama pants, looking like a complete mess, calling "Buster! Treats! I HAVE TREATS!" while my neighbors watched from their windows like it was free entertainment.

Found him at the community **pool**, where apparently he'd decided to crash the Saturday hangout session. The cool crowd was there. Jake Williams – **baseball** star, beautiful, completely unattainable – was sitting on the edge with his feet in the water.

And there was Buster, wet and triumphant, having jumped straight into the pool.

I wanted to evaporate. Instead, I had to wade in and retrieve this idiot dog while everyone watched.

"That's your dog?" Jake asked, laughing.

"Unfortunately," I said, hauling a soaking, tail-wagging Buster toward the edge. "He has no chill."

"He's awesome," Jake said. "You guys want to hang out? We were just about to order pizza."

And that's how I ended up spending the rest of the day at the pool with people I'd been too intimidated to talk to all year, eating cold pizza while Buster ran circles around everyone demanding attention.

Sometimes your most embarrassing moment turns into your best memory. The zombie state was real, but maybe – just maybe – I was finally coming back to life.