Zombie Goldfish Theory

Alex felt like a zombie by third period. Not the cool, cinematic kind that ate brains and looked badass doing it. No, she was the awkward, half-alive variety that survived on three hours of sleep and existential dread about lunch seating arrangements.

"You good?" Marcus asked, sliding into the desk beside her. He had that effortless thing going on—the kind of natural confidence Alex had been trying to fake since seventh grade.

"Living the dream," Alex mumbled, which was literally true considering she'd dreamed about drowning in a sea of orange Peeps the night before. Her brain was weird like that.

The bell rang. Social studies. Mr. Henderson was droning on about the Industrial Revolution, but Alex was thinking about her goldfish, Gerald, who'd been looking suspiciously glassy-eyed that morning. Possibly deceased. Definitely concerning. Gerald had been her constant since eighth grade, through braces and bad haircuts and that time she'd accidentally confessed her crush to the wrong person in the group chat.

After school, Alex found her sister's cat, Mango, sitting primly beside Gerald's bowl. Mango was an orange tabby with the personality of a mean girl and the appetite of a shark.

"You didn't," Alex whispered, though the evidence suggested otherwise.

Mango blinked slowly. The cat version of whatever.

Her phone buzzed. Marcus had invited her to a party on Friday. THE party. The one that determined social standing for the rest of the semester. And here she was, having a funeral for a fish and possibly plotting revenge against a feline.

But then again, maybe that was exactly the kind of thing normal teenagers dealt with. Maybe everyone felt like a zombie sometimes. Maybe the trick wasn't avoiding the awkward moments but surfing them like waves.

Alex texted Marcus back: "Count me in." Then she scooped Mango into her arms, ignored the indignant meow, and went to find her sister. Some fish were worth avenging. And some parties were worth going to, even if you showed up feeling like the living dead and your cat smelled vaguely like betrayal.