Zombie Girl vs. The Wild

Zoe felt like a zombie. Three weeks at summer camp without her iphone was supposed to be character-building, but mostly it just felt like emotional torture. No tiktok, no instagram, no group chat — just awkward conversations with people who'd never seen her curated feed or knew her as the queen of viral trends.

The worst part? The sphinx.

Not, like, an ACTUAL sphinx. But Mr. Reynolds, the camp counselor who insisted on starting every campfire session with "riddles of the soul." Tonight's question: "Who are you when no one's watching?"

Zoe rolled her eyes so hard she saw her brain. But then the lightning storm hit, scattering everyone to their cabins. Except Zoe, who'd snuck out to the bathroom and got turned around in the chaos.

That's when she heard it. Heavy breathing. Twigs snapping. The beam of her flashlight caught gleaming eyes and shaggy fur.

A bear.

Her heart hammered like a bass drop at a homecoming dance. The bear reared up, massive and terrifying and completely uninterested in her follower count or aesthetic feed. In that crystallized moment, Zoe realized something:

She didn't need to perform for this bear. It didn't care if she was trending. It just wanted her backpack's stolen granola bars.

"Hey big guy," she whispered, slowly backing away. "You can have them. They're generic brand anyway."

The bear sniffed, grabbed the backpack, and lumbered off.

Zoe stood there in the rain, phone-less, bear-traumatized, and completely, utterly herself for the first time in years. No filters. No angles. Just a girl who'd just bribed a bear with off-brand granola.

Mr. Reynolds found her shivering by the mess hall. "What happened to you out there, Zoe?"

She thought about her answer. Really thought.

"I think," she said, grinning, "I finally met someone who didn't care about my engagement metrics."

The sphinx had nothing on her now.