Zombie at the Deep End

I felt like a total zombie stumbling into Maya's pool party. Three hours of sleep and too much caffeine will do that to you. Everyone looked so effortlessly cool—Maya laughing with the popular crowd, Jake shirtless by the diving board, living his best life. Meanwhile, I was actively calculating the minimum number of social interactions required before I could peace out.

"Yo, Marcus! You gonna swim or what?" Jake called out. Of course he'd notice me standing there like a lost NPC.

"Yeah, just warming up," I lied, because that's what you do when you're fifteen and terrified of looking uncool.

I remembered my goldfish, Finnegan. Dad flushed him when I was seven, said he went to a better place. I'd cried for three days. Stupid, right? But sometimes I still thought about Finnegan—how he just swam in circles in that tiny bowl, never realizing there was a whole ocean out there. That was basically me, circling the same social circles, never brave enough to dive into anything real.

My phone buzzed. Mom: "Have fun! Love you!" with three heart emojis. God, parents are embarrassing.

I looked at the pool. Blue water rippling in the afternoon light. Maya laughing at something Jake said. My chest felt tight.

Just swim. Just be normal for once.

I jumped.

The water hit me like ice. For a second, everything was muffled and quiet—no awkward conversations, no overthinking, just me and the water. Then I broke the surface, gasping.

"Finally!" Maya yelled. "Took you long enough!"

Jake splashed water at me. "What's up, zombie boy?"

"Shut up," I said, but I was smiling. Actually smiling.

Maybe that's the thing about growing up—you're always gonna feel like a zombie sometimes, circling like a goldfish in your own head. But sometimes you just have to jump in anyway.

"Race you to the other side," Maya challenged.

"You're on."

And for the first time all day, I didn't overthink it. I just started swimming.