Zombie Market

I was a zombie. Not the brain-eating kind, obviously — I mean the kind who'd survived finals week on three hours of sleep and questionable energy drinks. My skin had that same grayish tint, and I'm pretty sure I was groaning when I shuffled into homeroom.

"Dude, you look dead," whispered Marcus, sliding into the desk next to mine.

"Thanks. You're looking particularly alive yourself," I shot back, though the sarcasm came out weak. I was too busy spying on Jenna across the room, currently laughing at something Tyler said. Tyler, who somehow still looked fresh and perfect while I was contemplating whether eye makeup could cover the bags under my eyes.

Social media stalking wasn't even satisfying anymore. I'd spent hours the night before being a total spy on Jenna's profile, analyzing whether her cryptic story was about me or someone else. Spoiler: it wasn't about me. Nothing ever was.

"Did you hear about Ryan?" Marcus asked, lowering his voice. "His dad's stock portfolio crashed. They're talking about selling the house."

The room felt suddenly cold. Ryan's dad was basically our school's financial bull — always bragging about his investments, talking about bull markets like they were sports teams he owned. Last year at homecoming, he'd drunkenly explained to anyone who'd listen that bears were about to get crushed. Now Ryan's family was getting crushed.

That was the thing about adults — they acted like they had everything figured out, like they could predict which way the market would turn. But really, they were just making it up as they went along, same as us. Bear market, bull market — it all felt like gambling, except with actual lives instead of poker chips.

I caught Jenna's eye across the room. She didn't look away.

My heart did that annoying fluttery thing it always did around her, despite everything. Maybe I was tired of feeling like a zombie, going through the motions of high school like it was some scripted survival game. Maybe I was done spying from a distance, overanalyzing every interaction, letting my anxiety bear down on me until I could barely breathe.

The morning bell rang. Zombies didn't have to sit through AP Chemistry. Zombies didn't have to figure out if their crush actually liked them back or was just being polite. Zombies didn't have to watch their friends' lives fall apart while their dads preached about bears and bulls like they actually knew what tomorrow would bring.

I raised my hand.

"Jenna, want to get coffee later?"

Her smile was genuine. "Finally. I thought you'd never ask."

Okay. Maybe the zombie apocalypse could wait.