Zombie in a Snapback

Maya pulled her baseball hat down lower, shielding eyes that felt gritty and bloodshot. Three hours of sleep before finals week would turn anyone into a functional zombie. At least that's what she told herself as she shuffled through the crowded hallway of Northwood High, her phone buzzing with notifications she couldn't bring herself to care about.

"You okay, M?" Jayla asked, falling into step beside her. "You look dead."

"Living the dream," Maya muttered, adjusting her hat like armor against the fluorescent lights.

The truth was, Maya had been running on autopilot for weeks. College applications were due, her parents were fighting again, and she'd spent every weekend either studying or pretending to care about parties that just made her feel lonely. She was seventeen going on empty.

That's when she saw the dog—a golden retriever mix trotting down the school corridor like he owned the place. No leash, no owner in sight. Just this calm, happy animal weaving through a sea of stressed teenagers like it was completely normal.

Maya's zombie state cracked. Something about the dog's easy confidence made her follow.

He led her outside, past the bleachers, to the old palm tree behind the football field. There, sitting in its shade, was a guy she'd seen around but never actually talked to. Ethan. The quiet one who sat in the back of AP English, always doodling in his notebook instead of taking notes.

"That's Buster," Ethan said, not looking up from his sketchbook. "He escapes on purpose. Says the classroom environment stifles his creative spirit."

Maya blinked. "You can talk to dogs?"

Ethan finally looked up, grinning. "Nope. But I can read their energy. Yours's pretty heavy right now."

She almost made a sarcastic comeback, but instead sank down beside him, cross-legged in the grass. Buster immediately flopped onto his back between them, demanding belly rubs.

"Finals week," Maya admitted, surprising herself. "Everything just feels... a lot."

Ethan nodded, flipping his sketchbook around. It was filled with comics—not just drawings, but whole stories. Characters that looked like people from their school, but braver, funnier versions of themselves.

"I make these when I feel like a zombie," he said softly. "Helps me remember I'm still in there somewhere."

Maya studied a panel of a girl throwing her hat in the air, surrounded by palm trees, free. Something shifted inside her chest.

"Can I help with the next one?" she asked.

Ethan's smile was real. "Yeah. I think Buster would like that too."