Zombie at the Pool Party

I felt like a literal zombie. Four hours of sleep will do that to you—especially when you spent half the night spy-ing on Jake's Instagram stories, analyzing whether that sunset pic was a subtweet about you. (Spoiler: it wasn't.)

"You good?" Marcus asked, lobbing a beach ball at my head.

I caught it reflexively. "Fine. Just tired."

"You look dead, though."

"Thanks, bestie."

We were at Jessica's pool party, the social event of the summer before sophomore year. The pool water sparkled like someone had dumped a million diamonds into it, which sounded poetic until I remembered Jessica's dad was loaded and her pool probably cost more than my house.

Chloe, my golden retriever, had decided to join the festivities uninvited. She'd squeezed through the fence gap and was currently "helping" by shaking water all over everyone's towels. Classic Chloe behavior.

"Chloe!" I grabbed her collar, but she wriggled free and made a beeline for Jake, who was sitting on the edge of the pool with his feet in the water.

"Hey there, little guy," Jake said, scratching her ears. Chloe sat down beside him, staring up with total heart eyes. Traitor.

"Sorry about her," I said, my face feeling hotter than the sun.

Jake looked up, sunglasses sliding down his nose. "No worries, she's chill. You're Sarah, right?"

My brain short-circuited. He knew my name? "Yeah! Hi. Hello."

Smooth, Sarah. Real smooth.

"You want some punch?" He gestured toward a bright orange cooler. "It's actually good, not suspicious at all."

I laughed. "Is that your way of telling me it's suspicious?"

"Maybe." He grinned. "I'm Jake, by the way."

"I know," I said, then immediately wanted to die. "I mean, I've seen you around. At school."

"Cool." He stood up, water dripping from his shorts. "You coming?"

As I walked toward the orange cooler with Jake and Chloe trailing behind us, I thought maybe being a zombie wasn't so bad. Sometimes the walking dead get the happiest endings.