Zombie Brain and the Spinach Incident

Maya's palms were sweating through her fake leather clutch. Again.

"You look like a zombie," Jaz whispered, elbowing her in the ribs. "You've been staring at Ethan across the cafeteria for twenty minutes. Either talk to him or I'm gonna scream."

"I can't," Maya groaned, sliding down in her seat. "My brain is dead. We studied until 2 AM for that history test. I'm literally running on caffeine and spite right now."

Her phone buzzed. A text from Ethan: *hey, can I ask you something after school?*

Maya nearly choked on her own spit. "OH MY GOD."

"Chill," Jaz said, though her own eyes went wide. "Just... don't freak out. And maybe check your teeth? You've got a little..."

Maya bolted to the bathroom mirror. A single, tiny piece of spinach was stuck in her front tooth. Of course. Because the universe hated her personally.

*Zombie mode ACTIVATED.* She scrubbed her teeth until her gums hurt, fixed her messy bun, and practiced breathing like a normal human being.

After school, Ethan found her by her locker. He looked nervous too—fidgeting with his backpack straps, not meeting her eyes.

"So," he started.

"So," Maya said back, like a functional person.

"My cat—we just got this cat, right? She's kind of an escape artist—and she got out this morning. And I was looking for her all day, and I saw you have those cat stickers on your notebook, and I was wondering if you've seen her? She's orange with one ear that—"

"Bent like a triangle?" Maya finished.

Ethan's face lit up. "Yeah!"

"She's in the old oak tree behind the football field," Maya said. "I saw her this morning when I was cutting through to get here. She looked stuck."

"You're literally my hero," Ethan said.

They walked together to the tree. Ethan coaxed the cat down with some turkey from his sandwich while Maya held her backpack open to grab her. The cat—Cinnamon, apparently—purred like a chainsaw.

"Thanks," Ethan said, scratching Cinnamon's chin. "You're really observant. I like that about you."

Maya's palms didn't sweat this time.

"Wanna hang out this weekend?" he asked. "My mom makes these amazing spinach artichoke dips. No joke."

Maya laughed. "I'd love that."

Walking home, she felt something shift in her chest. Not butterflies—something steadier. Like she'd finally grabbed life by the horns instead of waiting for it to happen to her.

"Well?" Jaz texted her twenty minutes later. *???*

Maya grinned at her phone. *Let's just say I'm not a zombie anymore.*