Zombie at the Deep End

Maya stood at the edge of the pool, clutching her iPhone like a lifeline. The screen reflected her face—foundation melting, eyes wide with that particular terror only a high school pool party can induce.

"You coming in or what?" called Tyler, who was somehow dry and perfect and impossibly confident. The water lapped against the pool edges, blue and inviting and absolutely terrifying.

"Just warming up," Maya lied. Her hair was straightened to within an inch of its life, a two-hour operation that would literally dissolve if she so much as dipped a toe in that chlorine-filled nightmare. She'd seen what happened to Jessica's curls last week. It was like watching a poodle get caught in a rainstorm.

A poodle. She missed her dog, Buster, waiting at home. He didn't care if she looked like a drowned rat. He didn't care if she spent the whole party scrolling through Instagram, pretending to be busy, feeling like a zombie moving through the motions of being a teenager.

Because that's what it was, right? This strange undead existence where you showed up at parties because that's what you did, where you laughed at jokes you didn't find funny, where you performed versions of yourself that felt increasingly unreal.

Her iPhone buzzed. Mom: "Have fun! Love you :)"

Maya stared at the text. Something in her chest untwisted.

She looked at Tyler doing a cannonball, at everyone screaming and laughing and being so alive it hurt, at the water that would absolutely destroy her hair but might—just might—be worth it.

Whatever.

She shoved her phone onto a lawn chair, took a running start, and dove in.

The water swallowed her whole, cool and shocking and real. She surfaced, hair plastered to her face, makeup definitely gone, laughing so hard she couldn't breathe.

"Took you long enough," Tyler grinned, splashing her.

Maya wiped her eyes. The zombie feeling had evaporated somewhere between the surface and the deep end. She was just Maya, wet and messy and actually, finally, having fun.

"Yeah," she said, splashing back. "I know."