Zombie Apocalypse Protocol

Maya's mom insisted she pack her vitamin D supplements before the bonfire, like that was actually going to help her survive the night. The older kids from Northwood would be there, including Leo — the one who'd accidentally started that rumor about her being obsessed with zombie apocalypse preparedness. Which, okay, wasn't completely bull, but still.

The bonfire was already roaring when she arrived. Someone had strung up lights using a sketchy-looking extension cable that definitely violated some fire codes. Maya clutched her solo cup like it was a shield, scanning the crowd for her best friend Sam.

"Maya!" Sam waved from near the woodpile. "Come here, you have to see this."

She dragged Maya over to where a group clustered around something in the dirt. It was weird — someone had arranged logs and rocks into this lopsided structure that sort of resembled a sphinx, if sphinxes were made of driftwood and had a beer can for a head.

"It's for the bonfire," Sam explained. "We're gonna burn it at midnight."

"Like, ritualistically?" Maya raised an eyebrow. "Because that sounds like the beginning of every horror movie ever."

"Exactly!" Leo materialized behind her, wearing that leather jacket he never washed. "Which is why you should explain your zombie protocol to everyone. You know, in case things go sideways."

Maya froze. Last year's health presentation — "Zombie Apocalypse Survival: A Practical Guide" — had been her way of coping with her dad's cancer diagnosis. Everyone had made fun of it, obviously. But she'd poured everything into those detailed escape routes and supply caches, something to control when everything else felt like it was crumbling.

"It wasn't a protocol," she mumbled. "It was just —"

"Actually kind of brilliant?" Leo interrupted. "I looked it up after school. That planning grid you made? The fire department uses stuff like that."

Maya stared at him. The crackling fire reflected in his dark eyes, and for once, he wasn't smirking.

"My dad was sick," she heard herself say. "I needed to feel like I could protect something."

Leo nodded, like this was the most normal thing in the world. "Yeah. That makes sense."

Someone bumped into Maya, splashing her drink. The moment broke, everyone laughing and shouting toward the sphinx-structure as midnight approached. But Maya felt different, lighter somehow. Like she'd swallowed something that wasn't just liquid courage.

"Hey," Leo said, almost quiet. "Want help with the next protocol? I've got ideas."

Maya smiled, and for the first time all night, she didn't feel like hiding behind her solo cup. "Only if you stop wearing that jacket. It's a biohazard."