Zombie Breaststroke at Dawn

The alarm blared at 4:45 AM and I felt like a straight-up zombie. Again. Third day in a row. My hair still smelled like chlorine from yesterday's practice, a permanent reminder that I'd sold my soul to the swim team for... what exactly? College apps? My parents' expectations? The vain hope that maybe I'd actually make varsity this year?

Coach Martinez blew his whistle at 5:15 sharp. His mustache twitched. "Alright, zombies, let's see what you've got."

I slipped into the lane and started swimming laps, my body moving through muscle memory while my brain was somewhere between I should've stayed in bed and how do I even exist this early. The water was the only place where the noise stopped — no group chat drama, no SAT prep, no crushing weight of who I was supposed to be.

After practice, I trudged to first period, half-dried hair under my hoodie. That's when I saw it — the new school mascot statue they'd installed over summer break. A sphinx. Like, an actual stone sphinx in the quad. Its riddle-eyes seemed to stare straight through me. Pretty on the nose for a school that expected us to have everything figured out at sixteen, honestly.

"You look dead," Marcus said, falling into step beside me.

"Living the dream."

"You coming to Jordan's party Friday?"

"Can't. Morning practice Saturday. Also, zombies don't party."

He laughed. "You're missing out. Jessica asked about you."

My stomach did that annoying thing. Jessica. The cross-country star who was always running past the pool deck in those tiny shorts. "What did she say?"

"Wouldn't you like to know."

I watched Jessica sprinting across the quad that afternoon, her ponytail swinging, graceful and effortless. I'd been swimming for years, but sometimes I wondered what it would feel like to just run. To not be confined to lanes, to go wherever, to be free.

The sphinx watched it all.

At practice that evening, I floated on my back between sets, staring at the ceiling. What was my riddle? What was I even solving for?

"Pick it up, Torres!" Martinez yelled.

I pushed off the wall. I wasn't a zombie. I wasn't just a swimmer. I wasn't who anyone expected me to be.

Maybe the riddle wasn't about figuring anything out. Maybe it was about being okay with not knowing.

I thought about asking Jessica if she wanted to study. Small rebellion, but a start.

Friday morning, the alarm went off at 4:45. I got up. Some things don't change.

But I texted her anyway.